Ghost of You
by blacktag189
Summary: "He spotted Ginny two tables away; she was sitting with her head on her mother's shoulder: There would be time to talk later, hours and days and maybe years in which to talk." – DH pg. 745. He didn't think it would be that easy…did he? **Completed**
1. Chapter 1

Ghost of You

~Chapter One~

_I never, said I'd lie and wait forever,_

_If I died, we'd be together now,_

_I can't always just forget her,_

_But she could try._

_Ghost of You by My Chemical Romance_

_

* * *

_

There were anxious and elated shouts echoing up the broken hallways as she stumbled toward the Great Hall. She could hear footsteps echoing towards her, and glanced over her shoulder Charlie was there. Within a heartbeat he had one arm wrapped around her shoulders, crushing her to his strong chest. He continued to hold her against him as words rushed out of his mouth like loud whispers. She let the warm arm hang in a familiar fashion around her as Charlie's words continued to muffle and warp in her brain. Suddenly the arm was gone. She tried to look down and her head swam with the effort. Her hand automatically shot out and braced herself up against the doorframe of the Great Hall. Charlie's face appeared before her then, pale, drawn, and worried. Her body wasn't moving at the normal speed, everything was like fighting through sand.

His face was still full of worry when someone suddenly appeared in the hallway, covered in blood. Everything sped up to almost double time. Charlie grabbed the person, who immediately fell limp in his arms as he hurried through the open doors into the Great Hall. A pounding started in the back of her head and Ginny realized it was footsteps. She snapped back around to see Hermione and Ron coming down the hallway towards her. Ron had a tight arm around Hermione's waist; they were talking lowly to each other, and then gave a glance back to Harry who was five steps behind. The hallway spun with alarming speed. With a gasp of breath she pushed through the threshold and let her head swim.

The chaos of the makeshift triage almost pulsated around her. Blood slicked the floor, people were shouting and yelling, families were sobbing over bodies, nurses and mediwizards were apparating right into the Great Hall and jumping into the fray. The fact that everything was still moving quickly made her slightly queasy and she looked down at the floor, trying to shake the out of body experience. That was when Harry's bloodstained sneakers appeared.

Harry touched her around the arms; she tore her eyes away from the floor and looked up at his face. She realized he was talking to her, and then he had paused, searching her face for an answer to a question she never heard. Before she could command her body to respond he was pulling her close to him for a hug. The angle that he had pulled her in revealed the table she had been trying to avoid, the mediwizard's parted and she saw a flash of red hair. The breath escaped from her chest like someone had punched her. He pulled back and brilliant green eyes filled her mind. She tried to suck any air into her lungs, but her body had stopped taking her commands. Slowly she felt the darkness start to form at the back of her head. She struggled to take a breath and his voice cut through strong and true, like so many other times in her life, when she was in trouble,

"Ginny?"

She felt her body slump against him, and then the darkness took her.

* * *

"Harry let her go! Harry just let go!" Hermione's shrill voice broke through the darkness, but she still could not open her eyes. She couldn't feel anything; just hear the voices echo in her head.

"Is she okay?" Harry's voice was right at her ear, echoing loudly in her empty mind.

"She's fine. Just let her go so I can check her." A calm voice ordered. "He's in shock."

"Is she okay?" His panicked voice was further away now.

"Harry everything will be fine." Her father's voice was at her ear now, tumbling over all the other voices around her. "Just let her go, son."

"Shock? What?" Ron barked out, there was a rustling of clothes.

"You," the voice ordered, "make a chair, and put him in it. Becky, we got another one."

"Here is your ticket, keep it on your wrist, this one is on her wrist, it links the two of you. Grab her and Apparate to St. Mungo's. The triage is already there."

"Of course." Her father's voice sounded faint and far away. Everything swirled again. The last things she heard were,

"Harry," Ron's voice sounded like he was struggling, "calm down. We're safe now. She'll be fine."

"Harry, please just calm down." Hermione pleaded.

"Fine, I'm fine. Is Ginny okay?"

* * *

"Pull that curtain, Paul."

"Ribs, fever, check out the leg, large cuts on the right arm, and the left leg."

"Why is she unconscious?"

"She passed out."

"Do we know why?"

"Shock, apparently she just shut off, there is a threat of a coma. Let's just treat immediate injuries first."

Her mind swirled shut again.

* * *

Her eyes still refused to open, her mind continued to keep her in its black suffocating arms. The darkness wrapped around her thoughts and pushed any and everything that had happened back into a corner that she rarely revisited. She heard muffled sobs, and tried to make her ears pick up who it was. If her eyes were going to refuse to work, she was going to need her ears. The sobs remained unidentified.

* * *

"Fever won't break, can we do something about those ribs?"

"We treated them, her body just doesn't want to heal."

"Must have something to do with the coma."

"Let's send her up to the room. There's nothing left for us to do."

"Grab one of the family."

"Which one is her family?"

"Any of the ones with red hair."

"Is that Harry Potter in the waiting room?"

She heard her bed start to move, and the paralyzing arms of darkness beckoned her back.

* * *

"I got here as soon as I could."

"Thanks, Neville." Ron roughly cleared his throat.

"How is she doing?"

"They said she's fine, she is just in a coma. Some of the nurses think she can hear us."

"What do you think?" Neville's voice was soft.

"I think she can hear us." Ron cleared his throat again, and then roughly added, "I'll be right back."

"Ginny?" Neville's voice filled her head. She tried to open her eyes, but her body hadn't responded to her commands in a long time now. He had been the first one to speak to her and not about her.

"I know you can hear me Ginny. You're safe now. The war is over. We won. Wake up."

Someone entered the room, but didn't say a word.

"I know you are stronger then this Ginny, you were the glue that held us together at Hogwarts. Wake up." He stopped and his voice seemed suddenly far away, "Alright, mate?"

The addition didn't answer, but her door clicked shut and for the first time since the darkness had claimed her, she felt something. Someone grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. The person sighed and left with Neville, and the silence crushed her into submission.

* * *

"Oh I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. I was just here to check in on my parents."

"It's alright Neville, I needed to get some dinner anyway." Hermione yawned.

"Well go ahead, I'll wait until you come back."

She heard the door click shut again and Neville whispered,

"I know you can hear. Can't you just open your eyes?"

She struggled against the darkness still paralyzing her to the bed. Her fingers twitched in concentration, but her eyelids remained shut. She took a breath in to try again and Neville gasped at her fingers,

"No way! Ginny? Ginny can you hear me?"

His footsteps exploded in her skull, "Someone get in here! She's waking up!" The room erupted with noise; it was a loud cacophony of steps, shouts, and fluttering, whirling devices.

"Please back up from the bed. Give her some room." A nurse ordered. She had no way of knowing how many voices were in the room, or how many hands were fluttering around her head now. She tried to focus on her fingers and was able to make them twitch again. This time cost her, though. The exhaustion pulsed into her, making her head swim in an all too familiar way. She held in a breath, attempting to keep control over the single moment of clarity she'd had since arriving here. She wasn't able to talk, but at least she could move. At least she could twitch against the dreamless slumber that had seemed to turn her to stone. Someone was pinching her toes; another hand was pulling her blankets down, yet another was taking something off her head.

"Ginerva, can you hear us?"

The swimming darkness spread its wide arms again, trying to trap her. She concentrated on her pinky finger, and forced it to twitch.

"Ginerva can you open your eyes?"

"Give her the potion."

"What potion?" An anxious voice called out.

"She's been sedated for a while now, this might help her wake up."

A silence filled her busy room, and then she felt white-hot pain. She knew she should be twisting around in agony, but her body refused to move. Her mind had never even registered the potion entering her mouth. It shot through her veins, cramped her muscles, and forced her eyes to pop open. The room gasped, her eyes saw nothing but white, bright, blinding light. With one shuddering, sweaty groan the darkness pulled at the back of her mind.

"Ginny? Ginny can you hear me?" Neville's voice shot through the blinding pain. Her fingers trembled with the effort of trying to force a scream through her silent lips. The darkness pulled at the front of her mind, she lost the ability to see the blinding lights.

"She's going under again."

Her body gave another painful sweaty groan, and she welcomed the darkness back. It was ebbing the pain away; it was forcing her back into the quiet submission where she didn't feel anything, where she didn't see anything like his face, or the Great Hall.

"Is she crying? What is going on?" Neville anxiously shot out.

"It's common, don't worry, she is not in pain."

She let go of the hold she had on the brief moment of consciousness and let the darkness envelop her into its silent, painless arms. She fell slowly back into the sea of night, the pain, the tremors, and the sweat all melting away back into numbness.

"Neville, what's going on?" Harry's anxious voice echoed in her mind.

"Neville?" Hermione's voice was almost a squeal.

"She woke up, for a second she woke up." Neville's voice was excited; it bounced with optimism. The darkness pulled all the way to the front of her mind, Harry's quiet voice filled the darkness,

"She woke up?"

"Let her sleep." The nurse pushed the voices from the room they spilled into the hallway.

* * *

Her room was silent. The darkness had lifted from her mind, now to the point that she could see light through her eyelids. She yelled into her mind to open her eyes, and to her frightened pleasure they popped up. The room shifted and blurred into focus, the light from the open window was making her wince. In those first few moments of consciousness she realized she still couldn't move her body, but her eyes darted around the room. She could not make out much detail; her mind was focusing enough on just being awake. The window let in a slight breeze when she heard the door crack open. She shifted her eyes to the sound and before she could even focus on the object in the door she heard a splash hit the ground. Her blurry vision made out black hair, not the dramatic red her heart could not bare to see; she knew it had to be Harry. Slowly her eyes zeroed in on him, blue jeans, a black jacket, and his hand still held out in the air, his fingers curled around the empty space where his cup used to be. His boot crushed the cup flat as he moved towards her bed.

"Ginny?"

She blinked a few times at his voice, it caused him to rush to the bed, and his sudden movements made her lose her focus. Slowly her mind erased the blur of colors and turned it into Harry's face. She plunged into the past.

She could feel the cold, wet slime over the stone floor. She was so cold, so cold, and it was so dark. She could hear labored breathing and looked around. An enormous dead snake twisted and coiled along the shallow pool of the dungeon. She glanced at her left and saw that he was holding onto himself and bleeding. In that silent moment his eyes searched her face and then he winced in pain. It was the green of his eyes at that moment, the exact color of green that would haunt her dreams for years after.

Harry's warm hand snapped her back to the present. He grabbed hers into his own, his lips were pressed tight, his brow creased with concentration, he still looked shocked. She tried to look past his face, but the brooding green made Riddle's laugh echo lightly in her ears. "Ginny? Can you hear me?"

She managed to look at him once, the laugh intensified, and she looked away. It seemed to be enough for him so he squeezed her hand.

"I'll go get the nurse." He whispered and let go. The loss of the warmth of his hand made her lungs contract, she forced her eyes shut, and tried to block out the memories. If the welcomed darkness wasn't going to be around to keep her sane, she was going to have to fall back on her fog. The fog that had protected her during that terror filled summer after the Chamber, the fog had made being around Harry easier in her second year. The fog would erase it all; she let the memories mist and then disappear into the gray emptiness.

"She was awake, just a moment ago."

* * *

"It's actually pretty common. People experience it several different ways. I wouldn't be surprised if we didn't have some kind of meltdown out of Harry soon."

"He has been quite huffy, eh? I thought he would be the first, you know, with all he went through."

"Ginny has faced Voldemort in similar ways as well." Hermione almost whispered.

"Yeah, I know." Ron darkly added.

"Where is Harry anyway?" She heard Hermione's shoes click away on the hard floor, and then there was only Ron's slow sighs. She pushed the fog out of her mind, it seemed like nothing was immediately threatening to break through. She cracked open an eye and for the first time was painfully aware of the cuts and bruises all over her body. Her hospital gown was covered in sweat, her hair was sticking to her forehead, and her throat was almost dried out. She struggled to open her other eye, and then turned her head to look at Ron. He was tapping his fingers on his knee and looking at the open door, where Hermione had just left. His head slowly moved toward her and he gave her the once over before he realized she was awake,

"Oh thank Merlin!" He sighed and jumped up out of bed to stand over her.

She gave out a dry cough and tried to dampen her mouth.

"You're at St. Mungo's. We've been here for about six days now; you've been in and out of it. They said you had a bit of a mental breakdown. Nothing lasting, post-traumatic something."

She tried to speak again, and when her voice cut out, nodded her head towards the glass of water on the side table. Ron grabbed it and placed it in her shaky hands. Little droplets of water splashed on her gown as she sucked down the water. She closed her eyes again savoring the flood of it across her parched throat.

"You gave us a bit of scare, Harry worst of all. He's hardly left the hospital; we keep bringing him clothes and stuff. He just paces a lot. Don't really blame him, no one can really leave, reporters everywhere, they want to interview us all, but they definitely want to get a hold of him." Ron took the cup back and gave her a soft look, "glad you're back, Ginny."

"Ginny?" Her mother's voice entered the room and she looked at her mother, now starting to grey at the temples of her hair, her face white and taught with the weight of what had happened to her family. "Oh my sweet, sweet girl." She grabbed Ginny in a giant hug and started to prop up her pillows. Her room immediately filled up with her family, each giving her a tired, but relieved smile. She searched the faces and noticed one missing, and the weight of the truth sat on her chest, her eyes filled with tears and she held out her hand to George. He sat on the edge of her bed and held onto her hand tight,

"Thought we lost you there for a moment." His voice was quiet, the usual humor lost, he stared at their hands and let out a shaky breath. The tears rolled down her face, fast and hot. She had time to wipe away some of them when Hermione and Harry came bursting into the room. They swept up to the bed, everyone parted slightly to let Harry in, and he stopped short at her bedside, George still holding onto her hand.

"Hi," he gave her a small smile. His fingers fluttered against the side of the bed, and then rested onto the mattress.

She managed a nod back. She felt her family's eyes trying not to watch every move made between them; even George had glanced over at Harry. After a breath he snatched his hands back up and crossed them over his chest.

"Nice to see you're awake, will everyone please leave the room? We have some tests we need to run." The nurse started to move the blankets around and Harry gave her one last fleeting look before she was all alone.

* * *

She held very still as the machines buzzed and whirled around her. There was the loud ever-present scratching of a quill against parchment next to her head, marking every breath she took. The nurses poked and prodded around her. She glanced at the two who were frowning over her, looking as war weary as she felt. The onslaught of her family, and then the sudden removal of them had exhausted her. In the exhaustion her mind was starting to wander again, she tried to focus on the fog, tried to imagine her mind blank and empty, tried to push anything that came across her thoughts deep into her chest. The loss of her darkness, or coma as everyone seemed to have called it, brought into acute awareness just how many injuries she had sustained. Her bones ached at being awake. She let out a hiss as the dark haired nurse poked a little too hard at one of her ribs.

"It should be healing, I don't know why it's still so tender." The nurse frowned at her ribs, and then walked away to get some more potions and ointments. The light haired nurse pulled out a small strip from the drawer next to her bed. Her cold fingers pressed it to Ginny's burning forehead,

"Oh dear. What could it be fighting?" She whispered and pulled the strip away. Ginny noticed that the small silver strip had turned to a dark red color once it was taken from her head. The nurse casually tossed it towards the trash, and as it fluttered to the ground Ginny glanced at the nurses' sneakers. They looked like Harry's, minus the blood and gore. She snapped her eyes shut to try to block the oncoming image in her brain, but it flooded into her senses.

There, on the wooden table, a table where she had once eaten and laughed, laid Fred. Stiff as a board, his face white, one hand hanging off the table, fingers spread out and slightly curled. A whimper escaped from her throat as she tried to push the memory back, it only made it worse. She saw his face, the small smile still haunting his features. Her father had closed his eyes. She felt the tears on her gown before she realized they were streaming down her numb face. Another whimper escaped and she felt the nurse stir next to her. Fred's wild hair, sticking out at all different angles was the next image to assault her, it still had bits of castle dust and grim stuck to it. His long legs were stock straight, his feet falling out from each other, mud and bits of gravel stuck inside the ridges of his boots. She struggled to take a breath, the thickness in her throat, the stuffiness of her nose, and the stream of tears made it sound like a gasp.

"Get the sleeping potion."

"But she already has a dose in her."

"It's not enough. She's not ready to be awake."

"We need to be careful, Jenna, she just woke up from a coma!"

"Her body is not healing. Whatever is haunting her is stalling it. She needs to be asleep."

"She's getting hysterical."

"Give me the bottle. I'm not going to make her suffer any longer."

Ginny felt a cold hand grab her chin, felt a rubber tube being shoved between her clenching teeth as she continued to sob. Next she felt the bitter liquid spill down her throat. Once it hit her stomach her eyes managed to focus blearily through the tears at the light haired nurse, Jenna, slowly pulling the tube out of her mouth.

"Sleep." She commanded. Ginny closed her eyes, clenching her teeth back into their now familiar position, ignored the tears still spilling down her face, and saw Fred's lifeless body one more time before darkness closed in on her again.

* * *

"They said that she will be in and out of it for a while. They have her on a double sleeping draught."

"Double?" Harry whispered incredulously. He was near her bed, maybe even standing next to it. She didn't know because she wasn't going to open her eyes. She had been awake for a few hours, once the potion had worn off, but every time someone came into the room she snapped her eyes shut and curled back into herself. She didn't have the energy to talk to anyone, no matter how much she'd been sleeping.

"I guess her body doesn't want to heal."

"Wait, what? How is that even possible?"

"Sometimes the mind just shuts off Harry, to preserve itself. Ginny has gone through so much. Her mind can't focus on dealing with all that has happened and healing itself. It can only do one thing at a time."

The white noise of the quill and machines filled back into her private room. Any time she had a moment of clarity, regardless of wither or not she opened her eyes, the machines and quill would furiously scribble and flap about taking in all her vital signs and calculating how soon she would be better. She could hear the birds chirping outside her open window. Even her closed eyes could tell that it was wide open to let all the sunlight in.

Once the first dose of sleeping potion had worn off a nurse came in. Ginny had ignored her chatter and humming. She had looked at the sun for only a few minutes before she turned to the nurse and nodded towards the curtains,

"Close them."

Ginny remembered the nurse had blanched at her face for a moment and then quickly shuffled over towards the window and with a flourish sent the room into darkness. Her family kept opening the blinds, and she kept ordering the nurses to close them. It was usually on her Mother's shift that they were opened.

"Go home Hermione." Harry's low voice rumbled in his chest. "It's my shift."

"Why are we even calling it shifts, like it's a job? I want to be here, I want her to get better. Sometimes," Hermione lowered her voice. "I swear that she's awake. I want to talk to her, no one can seem to get her to say more then two words."

"Hum," he mumbled. She felt something shift against the bed. He must be leaning against it, she deduced.

"How is Mrs. Weasley? Is she alright? Ron won't talk about anyone."

"She's managing, I guess. Everyone just keeps to themselves mostly. We eat dinner together; we sit in the living room after. I don't know Hermione."

"Do you think she'll be awake by Saturday?"

She felt the bed shift again. Hermione's silence confirmed that Harry had shrugged.

"Are we supposed to wear black, or colors? I can't remember."

"Wear whatever you want. That's what I remember hearing from Ron."

She heard Hermione sniffle then, the bed shifted again and she heard a small step. Her ears picked up some rustling of sweaters and a few more sniffles. Harry's voice was further away,

"It's okay."

"I'm going to go."

"I'll see you later."

Hermione's shoes squeaked across the polished floors and the door clicked shut behind her. She fought the temptation to open an eye. If she did, Harry would see, and she might have to talk to him. The nurses had been talking about Saturday for a while now. Maybe it was only in a few days, or hours, she couldn't tell anymore in the dark cave her world had become. Between forcing the light from the room, and the constant welcomed dark of her dreamless sleep time had stopped mattering.

It was no use saying the words of what Saturday was going to be. She knew, everyone knew, but no one wanted to say the words. She didn't know if her lips knew how to form words anymore anyway. The darkness kept her calm, it kept her tired, and it kept her silent. Any time she tried to open her mouth to even ask for a glass of water memories and waking nightmares would push to the forefront of her mind, and she would be gagging against the tube of sleeping potion soon after. Hysterical, that's what they had called it. She was hysterical, and needed more rest.

Harry pulled the chair, very noisily, across the floor and up against her bed. She heard a rustling in a cupboard next to her and Harry was back in the chair. She felt something hit the bed, and within a few minutes of labored sighs he started to snore. It was only then that she ever attempted to open her eyes. She had quickly learned that a sleeping Harry was the only member of her family that she could stomach. The trademark red hair of any Weasley would bring her back to...him. She refused to say his name; it would only cause a scene.

Harry's jet-black hair was safe. It was still long, trying to touch his shoulders. He had started tucking it behind his ears, out of his face. Her eyes roamed over the room, and away from Harry's sleeping face. There was a small lamp lit next to her hospital bed. It gave off a soft, slightly pink glow to the room. She didn't think it was possible for the room to look any more pink, but with the rust color blanket that was covering Harry, the peach colored walls, and the fuchsia colored blankets that covered her, she had fallen into pink hell. She was sure it was clashing wonderfully with her hair. She felt a bitter smile form internally, she never smiled on the outside anymore, it took too much effort.

There was yellow in the room as well. Yellow roses, marigolds, sunflowers, light yellow snapdragons, poppies, even giant hibiscus petals filled the table attached to her bed at her feet. Every single one was in a beautiful crystal vase, no cards. She felt the urge to kick them off for a shattering end. Her family knew she loved yellow; this would have been their doing. Their physical manifestations of love and hope made a flash of anger rip through her delicate stomach. They reminded her that she was still ill, and that she was ill because she couldn't let go of...him, and then that he was dead.

Before her mind could snap into a flashback of the Great Hall she pressed the nurse button on her bed and gently started pulling herself out of the mass of pink. She didn't trust her legs, but she did have to pee. Within an instant the door softly opened, spilling industrial bright light into her dark cave. The blonde nurse, Jenna, she remembered, didn't even bother to ask what she needed. She silently stepped around Harry's long legs, and with a strong arm offered her silent support to the bathroom inside her bedroom.

Jenna turned her back towards Ginny as she fumbled around with her hospital gown, and sat on the toilet.

"So am I ever left alone?"

Jenna turned around, surprised. Ginny couldn't help the bitterness that had exited with her voice. To be honest she was surprised that her thought actually made it past her lips.

"No."

"Oh." She had used up her quota for the day now.

"If there is always someone here, you will never feel alone. It helps with the healing process." Jenna turned back around as she finished up and flushed the toilet. They fell back into their practiced silence as Jenna offered a strong arm out of the bathroom. Just as she had feared, once the door had opened, Harry's eyes swept towards her analyzing her face with a dark intensity. His pink blanket was on the floor; his chair was turned back around to face her bed now. He silently followed their slow shuffle back towards her bed.

Jenna settled the blankets back around her, and Ginny let her head fall back onto the pillows, now exhausted. She had never thought ten steps to the bathroom would feel like a marathon, but here she was panting. Jenna stuck a silver strip to her forehead and swished her wand around to fluff and organize the mountain of blankets around her bed. She started checking the rolls and rolls of parchment next to her bed, the quill continued to mark her every move. Harry kept silent and darted his green to every movement the nurse made.

"Much, much better." Jenna smiled as she took the silver slip off her forehead and showed her the dark green color it had turned. It matched Harry's eyes, Ginny closed her own.

"What's good?" It almost sounded like he was demanding an answer rather then asking.

"She's healing, her fever broke, so that means that her body is responding to the sleep. Once the slip turns blue she can go home."

"Does that mean she'll be better when it's blue?" He had kept his voice low, almost as if he was afraid there was someone else listening in on their private room.

"No, silver is an indication of fully healed. But blue is good enough to leave." Jenna had paused and Ginny opened her eyes to see why. She was swishing her wand up and down her body, murmuring to herself. Then she pulled out a vile from her pocket and set it down on the table by her feet, between the roses and the sunflowers.

"When she's ready to go back to sleep, you can give her this." She directed the order to Harry. His face paled slightly,

"What if she," he turned away from her and whispered, "has another…"

Jenna pursed her lips together, gave Ginny a knowing look, and then finished,

"She won't."

Ginny snuggled deeper into her bed. Jenna had more faith in her then Harry it seemed. She wished for a moment that she had bothered to look in a mirror when she was in the bathroom, she must look frightening to have Harry be scared. Perhaps Harry had a reason to be scared. The fog settled back around the corners of her mind and she realized that Jenna had left and Harry was looking at her, waiting for an answer. She hadn't heard him speak.

"How do you feel, Ginny?" He asked again. His words had been slow, careful, and cautious. She shrugged her shoulders.

"Do you want some food?" He moved down towards a bag at his feet, she hadn't realized he brought anything with him. He pulled out a box of crackers and a chocolate bar; apparently he wasn't prepared for her to actually be awake. It seemed like an afterthought he had thrown into his bag. She shook her head no.

"Thirsty?" He moved towards the water pitcher and glasses by her lamp. She shook her head no again. His shoulders slumped with defeat; she watched a flash of frustration cross his mouth. The fog refused to let her feel bad, the fog refused to let her feel anything, actually. That's why she had kept it around. She had tried a few blinding days of clarity, in the timeless time she had spent in her pink hell. She re-lived, with achingly painful detail, those horrible days at Hogwarts before Easter break, that dark night at the castle, and him. They had flashed across her eyes, ripped into her lungs, and curled her up into a ball, clutching at her now healed, but still mentally bruised ribs. The fog stopped all that. It kept her anxious, she would see flashes of the pain, but if she felt nothing, she wouldn't have to feel the pain.

"Okay," he conceded and sat back down in his chair. His eyes had never left her face. Now he just stared at her, and she knew that he was detailing this moment in his mind. He used to do that when they were both at Hogwarts, together. She would notice dark green eyes pouring over every single detail of seemingly unimportant moments.

They would be sitting on a couch in the Common Room, or on the Pitch during moments of rare free time. She had asked one bright day, as they were doing homework by the lake,

"What are you doing?"

Ginny remembered she had laughed, when her question had shook him from his examining. The thought of laughing now made her stomach turn.

"Oh, nothing." He looked down at his homework.

"Are you studying me?"

"Something like that." He had mumbled and closed his book with a snap. She had laughed again. She forced down the rising dry heave. There was never enough food in her stomach to actually throw up. Her tiny shift to choke back the vomit had Harry on his feet,

"Are you okay?"

She waved her hand at him, and turned her face away towards the curtained window. She couldn't take his eyes anymore. Before they had been a source of reassurance in her dreams, comfort on the longer days, but now they reminded her of all the things she had tried to forget in her life. Most of the darkest memories involved him in some way. Her exhaustion was making it harder and harder for the fog to hang around. It was pulling back, slowly, and she had a flash of her Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, the dark walls, and her wand twitching in her shaking hand, as she waited her turn to...she turned her head back to Harry for the distraction. His face had not moved.

"Ready?" He asked with a sad smile. She nodded, grateful that she wouldn't have to say the words, grateful that Harry could understand her moods just by looking at her face, grateful that she wouldn't have to look at him for much longer. She swallowed the bottle with one breath and closed her eyes in anticipation of the welcome darkness.

* * *

"Do you feel alright, dear?"

"Just tired." She lowered her eyes and closed them, thinking it would make her leave.

"Do you know how long you have been here Ginevra?"

Ginny opened her eyes and glared at the nurse. It appeared that Jenna had the day off. She was in no mood to talk, not when this exhaustion made it difficult to even summon the will to speak.

"A few days?"

"No, almost two weeks dear."

"Two weeks?" She looked toward the closed blinds, hoping she would take the hint, but the nurse continued to flutter around the bed. "What day is it?"

"Saturday." The nurse quietly said and set down some actual clothes and not another hospital gown. Ginny looked down at the clothes as the words sank in, a black skirt and a bright yellow top. Surprisingly, it was the yellow shirt that made her gag. Black she could have dealt with; black was the color she felt. Black was what she had become. An empty, black shell of who she used to be. The tremor of sickness shot through her body, she immediately broke out in a fast, slick sweat. She turned back towards the curtain and became sick all over the floor.

"That's okay, dear. It's okay." Her kind voice seemed to be all around her as her head swam. A bowl appeared below her face as her stomach lurched again and she spit out the dry heave. The nurse had already cleaned up the mess and was rubbing a soft hand along her sweaty back. "It's okay."

"It's not okay." Gritted out between her teeth, and she felt the hysteria filter through the fog. The whirling machines started to fly around the room at an alarming rate. The quill was moving so quick it was smoking. The vomit had distracted her hold on her thoughts, her body started to shake in anticipation of the building scream. It started first in the bottom of her stomach, the trembling. She felt like someone was physically shaking her, her already tender stomach ached as it rolled and twitched with the coming storm. Her lungs were next, the deep rattle made her teeth start to chatter against themselves. She tried to clamp her mouth shut, at least she could save them from chipping each other. By the time her lungs were shaking she had already lost control; she curled around the metal guards holding her into the bed. The low moaning scream started at the back of her throat. She sputtered and tried to take in a breath before the flood.

"Ginerva, stay with me." The nurse commanded. She placed her cold hands around Ginny's arms, but she had already lost feeling in her body. The moaning, screaming tears exploded out of her throat, the saltwater opened like a river down her face. Her body convulsed into itself, trying to keep something together as everything was falling apart. Her stomach lurched again and she threw up the bile that had formed. It splattered all over her sheets, and made a sick slopping noise as it hit the ground. Hysteria kicked into high gear.

"Send someone in," the nurse said into an orb that floated at the end of her wand and with a flick it shot through the closed door. She waved her wand over the vomit sprayed sheets and floor, and then banished the bowl.

Her body trembled again and she started hyperventilating to get some air back into her lungs. The nurse pushed Ginny up against her pillows and stuck a silver strip to her head. She was grabbing her jaw in preparation for the rubber tube when the door exploded open. Ginny didn't even attempt to crack open her eyes to see who it was. Even if she had managed to open them her vision would be clouded by the tears. A pitiful moan wretched from her throat, and the nurse put a stronger hold on her shoulder to keep her from shaking around.

The pain of the hysteria ripped through her body, she begged her mind for anything. She would take fog, she would take darkness, she would take numbness, but her mind refused to succumb. Each sob gave her a shudder of pain; each tear caused the hole in her chest to widen, until she finally just let go. She gave into the hysteria, not caring if it would drive her mad. Not caring if she would never stop crying. She just couldn't hold the pain in anymore, she could not let it linger this time, and hope that it would be pushed aside like it had with Riddle. Her yellow shirt flashed in the forefront of her mind and another rack of sobs broke through.

Suddenly there were hands all over her. Two pinning her to the bed, one on her jaw, one prying her teeth open, one pressing the blankets tight against her legs. The tube shoved in between her teeth and she started gagging on the bitter medicine. With a giant cough it sprayed all over everyone.

"John, get another vile, it's in my pocket." A calm voice ordered over her cries of pain. She felt the nurse on her legs shift and then one of them shouted out,

"NO! Get out of the room!"

"Oh no! Ginny!" She could pick out Hermione's panicked shout.

"Out!" The voice bellowed. The door slammed shut and Hermione's voice echoed in her head as the second attempt at the sleeping potion sped down her throat.

"Don't go in. No, don't go in. No one needs to see her like this, not today."

"Lock the door John." The calm voice filled the room. She didn't even have time to contemplate vomiting up this batch of sleeping medication. It was so much more potent then the others before it that when it hit her stomach her body slumped limp, and her brain greedily soaked up the forming black, she felt herself free falling into it.

* * *

"I really appreciate this Neville. She shouldn't be left alone."

"Harry," there was a long pause. "All you ever have to do is ask."

"I would stay, it is just supposed to be family, but Hermione is all shook up from the incident, and Ron..."

"Harry you are family." Neville's voice was quiet.

"Yeah." Was all Harry offered. He cleared his throat and then in a thick voice managed, "If she wakes up," he broke off.

"She'll be fine. The fact that she is reacting in any way is a great sign. If she had just laid there...well that would have been a different story."

"Right, I should go." He cleared his throat again.

"I'm so sorry Harry, Fred was an incredible wizard."

She heard some rustling of clothes and a few pats. With a few loudly exhaled breaths the room emptied to Neville. She let the final few moments of haze from the potion linger around in her skull. Her last hysterical fit had made her throat raw and her stomach tender, but there wasn't much need for the fog. Her mind had taken all the white-hot memories of pain and pushed them further into her chest cavity. Any ping of memory, even the faintest flash of trauma, now shot through her chest like buckshot. It sprayed out in all directions, being swallowed by the ever present, ever growing, ever darker void where her chest used to be.

She had a quick flash of her yellow shirt again and felt it spray right below her heart. She wanted the darkness back. But now, as the haze of drugs was lifting, she was aware of Neville sitting in the chair.

She felt his hand on her own and he squeezed it tightly. "I know you can hear me, and I know that you are scared, but your family needs you, Harry needs you, I need you."

She felt the hot tear roll down her face and Neville's hand squeezed her tighter. His other hand cupped around their linked ones. "I promise I won't get the nurse this time. Just open your eyes."

His warm hands continued to give her an encouraging squeeze. The tears were still spilling from her eyes, she didn't trust them yet, so she tried to squeeze his hand back. She felt her fingers tremble, and then finally faintly wrap around his.

"Good enough. Good enough Ginny. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. It's my turn to take care of you. Don't think I've forgotten what happened at Hogwarts. We need to stick together." He started rubbing his thumb along the lines of her wrist. "Would you like me to distract you?" She squeezed back a yes.

"Well there is this wonderful rumor bouncing around the hospital that Harry Potter is hiding out within its walls. Ron and Hermione are getting their fair amount of unwanted press when they manage to get outside. But Harry has taken to transformation and charms, and even some polyjuice potion I believe to try to stay undetected. It's created quite a stir. Much needed, mind you, because of the low morale. The emergency nurses have several bets going. Of course your nurses know he's here."

The initial explosion of pain at the mention of the three quietly folded into the void. She tried to focus on the sound of his voice, the slight humor it was reflecting, but not the words. He continued to rub a pattern across her wrist.

"The best part is that there is such tight security on your room that everyone has figured out that he must be in your room. It's confusing all the patients on the floor. They aren't used to so many people visiting them, not too many make it up to the psych ward. The Prophet has been running theories so far off from the truth that Gran and I have turned to the Quibbler instead. Everyone wants to know." Neville sighed. "It can't be easy for him, but I'm sure Harry is used to it by now. That must be why no one has been able to catch him yet." He paused for a second, and then changed direction with his pattern. "Think you could open your eyes?"

She slacked her hold on his hand. She didn't even want to try. She was still just focusing on his voice, trying to spell each word out of his mouth just to distract herself. She hoped he would have something else to talk about, other then the handful of people that brought the shots of pain through her.

"I'll take that as a no. Well no matter, there are already stores and pubs popping up all over the country. It only took people long enough to clear the rubble to throw something up. I guess it's a good thing. I would think we'd wait a little bit longer to mourn the loss of...everything. But it's nice to know that people are excited to start the rebuilding so soon. My Gran said that it took a lot longer in the first war. People weren't quite ready to move on, she said it was much more personal. I don't even know what she meant by that, it seemed to be a strange thing to say. But she's been through both now, so maybe she knows something I don't. It was personal to me." Her door slid open and Neville slowly let go of her hand.

"Is she awake?"

"No, I'm just talking to her. It helped with my parents."

"Well if she does, lets try to get her to eat something." She heard the plunk of plastic hit one of the tables in her room.

"I'll try."

"Let's prop her up a little, help me with these pillows."

She was slowly moving from laying down to sitting up, hands fluttered around her blankets and pillows until she felt stable.

"Let us know if you need anything Neville."

"Alright, thanks, Monica." Neville answered back and the room filled with his presence. "If you don't mind, I'm going to have your breadstick, I'm starving. If you don't want me to...well...do anything." She heard his feet moving before she could even make her fingers twitch. With all the effort of moving the last few drudges of potion lifted from her brain and her eyes slowly cracked open. Neville was moving back towards her bed, a cup of Jello in his hands.

"You caught me, I wasn't stealing your breadstick." He shoved the metal spoon into the red Jello. "I guess this means you want some." He smiled at her, and she gave him a few slow blinks. "They do have the best Jello here." He spooned out a jiggling red blob and moved it towards Ginny's face. She focused on opening her mouth, and it obediently complied to take in the Jello. The sugary, mushy, strawberry flavored scoop smashed against her tongue. The pieces slid down her sore throat and she closed her eyes for a moment as it hit her empty stomach. To actually have food in her stomach ebbed away some of the pain along the edges of her black holed chest.

"It's good, right?" He spooned another cube into her mouth. "I'm partial to the green Jello, but this strawberry one is a usual favorite. Thirsty?" He leaned over and grabbed a glass of water. He did not even wait for an answer. The water spilled down her throat quickly and coolly.

"They never send enough of this stuff up." He gave her a smile and then reached across her bed to push the nurse button. Someone appeared in the doorway immediately.

"Could we have some more strawberry Jello?"

The nurse locked her confused gaze on Ginny for a long moment before muttering, as she backed out of the room, "Of course."

Neville just turned back to her, not fazed by the reaction of the nurse and spooned another spoonful into her mouth. "Orange is good as well, and my Gran loves pineapple."

Two cups of Jello later, Neville was ripping the top off another one, recanting tales of his Herbology experiments,

"The problem really is a proper greenhouse." He swooped a spoonful into her mouth. "If you don't have the proper filtration of light it can create the strangest crossbreeds. The things I have seen in my greenhouse!" He let out a tiny laugh and prepared another spoonful of Jello. As the sugar had settled into her stomach her body absorbed its power. Her blood was pumping through her veins, and the added bonus of food she wasn't immediately throwing up had kept her awake for over an hour. Neville's bright voice and somewhat boring stories had kept her in rapture. If it had been anything more entertaining she was afraid she might have slipped. But he had seemed to know that, and steered clear of any topic that might upset her.

She knew it had a lot to do with their time together in the underground. He was able to read her so quickly that unspoken understandings and plans were a commonplace thing for them. He had avoided talking about the underground as well. For that she was very grateful.

"I've been thinking of taking on some Weeping Roses. They are quite rare, and hard to get, but the benefits would outweigh the price." He swooped the spoon towards her mouth. As her tongue rolled the Jello around in her mouth the door quietly opened. "To be able to harness their ability to heal burns would be reason enough."

Ginny's eyes, now clear and bright, landed on Harry. Neville's banter continued as Harry held onto the doorframe and watched the two of them,

"One bite left. Do you want me to get some more? Monica does like me, I'm sure she'd steal a few more for us."

Ginny shook her head no, and never lost eye contact with Harry. She looked at him, really looked at him for what felt like the first time in a year. He still had some scrapes and a few perfectly round blisters on his exposed forearms. His arms were crossing over his now broad chest, the scars lighting up against the black button up shirt he was wearing. He seemed taller, maybe it was the khakis, but he seemed larger somehow. She ventured up to his face, his long hair pulled back from his strong jaw line. It was clamped tight; she could see the muscles moving with his frown as he looked from the empty cups and back to Neville a few times. When he'd had enough he looked up at Ginny, his eyes almost black they were so dark green.

"Maybe we should move on to real food," Neville smiled and then stopped. He looked from her face and then slowly turned around to Harry.

"Hey, Neville." His voice came out slow and tired. She watched his agitated jaw loosen, his body responded as well. He slumped against the doorframe.

"So," Neville started quietly. "You're back?"

"It's over." Harry quickly answered. He let out a tired breath of air and moved toward her bed. With a few steps he was sitting on her fuchsia blankets, his arms still across his chest.

"Well Ginny and I have been eating some Jello. You hungry?" He offered up the last few bites of strawberry Jello. Harry eyed it, and then shook his head no. Neville shrugged his shoulders and looked back at her. "What about you? Sure you don't want it?"

She cleared her throat, thinking that maybe she could at least try out a few words today, but the act of thinking about talking formed a flash of panic in the hole, and she clamped her mouth shut. She shook her head no again. For a long moment the three just stared at their own hands, and not each other.

"Did you call the nurses in about Ginny being awake?" Harry broke the silence.

"Monica knows she's awake, they've let her be. Maybe we should get all your vitals checked out Ginny." Neville offered and stood. Ginny instantly felt the mood in the room shift. Neville's presence was comforting to her; he had never expected anything out of her. She felt like her family, and Harry, all watched over her like she was about to break again. Neville was just there, almost like they were back at school. His face never showed that he was concerned about how thin she had become, or that she was up in the psych ward, or that she hadn't said anything, or that she was slowly going mad. Harry's face was always concerned, always scouring her body and collecting information on her moods, and when her family could bare to look at her it was nothing but despair in their eyes. She instantly regretted Neville leaving, her hand shot out towards his leaving arm and wrapped around it.

Harry and Neville froze. She saw Harry's fists ball up into tight, white circles, and then he let out a long breath and released his hands.

"Don't worry," he was moving slowly out of the room. "I'll go."

Neville and Ginny watched the door click shut behind him, and then Neville let out a slow breath. They waited for another moment, thinking a nurse would be in at any minute, but as the ticking clock started to fill the silence they realized that no nurse would be coming.

"I should go find him." Neville started and looked back at Ginny. "Do you want me to stay until you fall asleep?"

She was torn, the black hole in her chest screamed yes. But a peculiar feeling had started to spread across what used to be her heart. She realized it must be an emotion, she was so used to nothing she wasn't prepared for something tangible to fill her chest. Her brain focused through the pain and remembered what it was. Worry. She was worried about Harry. His white, balled fists passed over her thoughts for another moment as she continued to hold onto Neville's arm. Within the few seconds before she was going to make a decision the door swung open again and Monica stepped through. She was carrying a large tray in her hands, and Neville's shoulders tensed up for a moment. Jello, it was an enormous tray of strawberry Jello.

"He said you were awake, and that you would like more Jello. Strawberry to be exact." Monica set the tray of Jello on her bed, there had to be about twenty of them. Ginny dropped her hold on his arm as a new feeling flooding her black-holed chest. Neville glanced around Monica but no one was in the doorway. He turned back to look at her as Monica placed a strip across her forehead.

"Did he say anything else?" Neville quietly asked. Monica looked up at him with a smile still across her lips.

"Just that. Why do you ask?" All three of their eyes glanced towards the door as Hermione stepped hesitantly into the room. Guilt exploded through her body, causing her to wince into herself.

"Dark blue, that's wonderful! You might be able to go next week." Monica continued to smile through the awkwardly thick emotions filling the room. Ginny nodded her head, hoping it make her leave faster.

"Harry owled me." Hermione started quietly. She looked overdressed to be at the hospital. A long black skirt that floated gracefully down to her calves, a deep red sweater set, and shiny black shoes. Her hair was swept up away from her face; her eyes red around the edges, and her cheeks slightly blushed. Monica brushed past her, and Neville quickly moved away from the bed.

"What did he say?" His voice cracked a little with worry.

"Just that he was tired, and wondered if I could come help out for a couple hours." Hermione smoothed her hands down her skirt. "He didn't say you were awake Ginny." She smiled carefully at her.

"I can stay Ginny, if you'd like." Neville offered. She looked up at him, confusion, worry, anxiety, and something else were clear across his face. Hermione and Neville both stayed silent and still as she continued to look at him. She hadn't even really considered his question. The door quickly opened,

"Neville? Your mother is looking for you." Monica smiled at the group and then shut the door behind her.

"I'll come back tomorrow if you'd like." Ginny nodded a yes.

For one long second Hermione and Neville just looked at each other, and then Hermione threw her arms around his neck. They hugged each other for a long moment, Hermione's breath labored and sniffily. Ginny looked away towards the curtains, light attempting to break through the holes and edges. It filtered into the cracks and made the dust circling about her room sparkle. She was concentrating so hard on the dust she never heard Neville leave, Hermione cleared her throat and Ginny allowed her tired eyes to look at her again.

"This is a lot of Jello," she tried to joke. A flash of pity shot through Ginny, of course Hermione wouldn't have had any idea what the Jello meant, the guilty Jello that Harry had left in his wake. These tears were going to frighten her. Pity continued to flood through her as she slowly felt herself losing control again. The tears started to run down her face, her hands started to shake, and Hermione let out an anxious noise in the back of her throat.

"I'm sorry, ah," Hermione moved towards the bed and grabbed Ginny's hand. She was surprised at how strong the hold on her hand was and it distracted her. The cold comfort of her fingers was a new experience. Ginny sniffled again and let the tears continue to flow, but focused on the cold. Everyone else's hands were warm, and usually a little bit limp in their attempt to bring her comfort. Hermione's icy grip snapped the panic right out of her. "Has anyone told you about Quidditch lately?"

Ginny lifted her watery gaze to Hermione. Even in her current state she would have never guessed Hermione would bring Quidditch up. A memory of what humor used to feel like filled the empty void in her chest, and for one moment she thought she could remember what normal felt like. But it was quickly over, and she let the tears continue to roll. Hermione started to stutter and fumble all over herself,

"Well the Cannon's are gearing up to….there's some sort of exhibition game going on. I don't think it's a proper match. And you like another team, don't you? What was it called," her free hand ran along her blankets as she tried to remember. "Harpies, yes the Harpies. I believe they are doing an exhibition game as well. Well all of the teams are. It's some sort of gimmick to get everyone back into the stadium. Not gimmick…that's too harsh…they are free games…I…" Hermione looked down at Ginny and gave her a pathetic smile.

Ginny knew she was trying, very hard as a matter of fact, so she managed to give her fingers a slight squeeze and relief filled her face. They stayed silent for another moment, and then Hermione leaned against the bed.

"I'm glad you are feeling better Ginny. I really, really am." Hermione squeezed her hand, the cold moving up her arm. "Is there anything in particular you'd like to hear about? I'm sorry, but that's all the Quidditch I know."

Ginny shook her head no. It seemed that Hermione was ready to talk about anything, but Ginny knew she was only ready to hear specific, safe, things. She continued to stare at the wall behind Hermione's head when she felt her other hand gripped in cold comfort. She let the cold numbness fill her up; it traveled up her arms, past her shoulders, and into her chest. It was quickly sucked into the void, but her mind was clear, and calm, and the tears had finally stopped.

"I'm not going to leave Ginny. I am here for you, even if you just need me to be silent. I can do that. I can stay the whole night, well until Harry comes, but I will sit with you until then." Hermione's voice was quiet and strong, her hands flexed on certain words, trying to punctuate her feelings. Ginny looked into her face for a moment before the words drifted past her protective barrier of numbness….Harry. Flashes of black hair, green eyes, and of all things, strawberry Jello bombarded her and she winced. Hermione tightened her grip; Ginny felt the blood in her fingers pump hard against the restriction.

"I'm sorry, what did I say wrong?" Her voice was pleading.

"Harry," the word whispered off her lips. She was just as surprised as Hermione, but for different reasons.

"Why Ha…never mind. Sorry. I won't mention him again." She released the vice grip on her fingers a little and the blood surged into the tips.

"S'okay." She mumbled again, and then looked around the room in surprise. Was it someone else who was talking? How were her thoughts making it past her lips today? How was she able to have a conversation with Hermione?

"He is here too often. I bet you're sick of him." Hermione absently answered. She caught Ginny's eyes and finished, "In the beginning he was the only person you didn't start sobbing at. It was very hard on everyone, especially since you were rarely awake, but he was the only one…" She dropped off at something that had crossed Ginny's eyes. Her chest registered the buckshot of pity, and then the shot of pain at the roundabout mention of her family. Flashes of Neville and Jello shot through her mind and she felt the tears pick up again.

She shook her head and tried to blink back the tears. She shouldn't be crying about Jello. Right? Beyond confused, the tears gently hit her blanket again. Her body slumped with a wave of exhaustion, and she leaned further into her pillows.

"Should I tell him not to come back?" Hermione whispered. She leaned forward to wait for any response from Ginny. She didn't need to think about her answer. Even though she didn't remember sobbing at the sight of her family she knew she needed Harry there. His eyes would try to dissect her again, but in the end he was always a comfort, had always been a comfort, even when he didn't know he was.

Her mind flashed back to her first summer home from Hogwarts. Her room was full of bright sunshine and a summer breeze. She was curled up under several quilts and blankets, hiding from it all. Her was face sallow, her eyes sunken in, with enormous purple bags under them. In the memory her mother entered the room,

"Ginny, love. Won't you come and eat anything?"

She had remained under the covers, shook her head no, and pulled them up over her head, blocking out the bright happiness that should have been her first summer back from Hogwarts.

"Well I better go prepare your brother's room, Harry should be here soon."

She remembered waiting for her mother to leave when she threw the blankets off. It had only taken the mention of his name.

Her mind snapped back to the present, she pried a hand out of Hermione's grasp, wiped away her tears, and for the first time since her timeless time in the hospital felt a surge of hope fill her chest. She looked squarely at Hermione,

"No. He should come."

* * *

Author's Note:

I just want to thank my wonderful editor's, Casca and Courtney, as well as my good friend Sara for all their help with this. I would have stopped a long time ago if not for your interest and support. Thanks again!


	2. Chapter 2

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 2~

_Is no word from you at all the best that you can do?_

_I never meant to push or shove you. _

_Do you know how much I love you?_

_No, you don't. But I do._

_Past the Point of Rescue by Hal Ketchum_

_

* * *

_

"Did you sleep at all?"

"No."

"Harry you need to sleep, you're the only one that hasn't…"

"I know Hermione."

"You're not helping anyone if you fall over from exhaustion." She finished indignantly.

"I try to sleep, I just can't."

"Maybe you should talk to the nurses…"

"I think my not sleeping isn't high on the priority list right now. Not like it's the first time." He added lowly.

"She was awake for a while. I actually talked to her for a bit."

"Didn't eat any of the Jello, though."

"Don't mention the Jello, it made her cry." She heard a huff come from Hermione, "Don't ask me why."

"Hum." Harry coughed out, and she could feel Hermione giving Harry a probing look, even though her eyes were closed. Harry hadn't revealed enough.

"She cried when I mentioned you too." She pushed. Harry remained silent. When it seemed like nothing more was going to be addressed Hermione added, "But she wanted you to come back."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I asked her."

"And she answered you?" His voice was incredulous.

"She said 'He should come'." Hermione let out a giant yawn. "What time is it anyway?"

"Two." Harry absently answered back. She could tell he was brooding. He always shot off answers quickly when he was brooding.

"Oh lighten up! She's answering questions and everything, I think we're out of danger now." Hermione yawned again.

"Yeah, yeah." He shot back.

"Now if we could only get her not to cry whenever she sees her family I think we would have some real progress."

"Let's not push it."

"I think I figured it out, though. It's the hair color. Well the likeness altogether. I see a lot of Fred in Ron as well. I can't imagine looking at my family and seeing…" Hermione dropped off. Harry was quiet again. This time when Hermione yawned she started moving.

"Thanks for filling in."

"Harry," she grumbled but sounded like she grabbed him into a hug. "Get some sleep. She should be out for a while."

Once Hermione left the chair scrapped across the floor again and she felt a jostling against her bed. Against her better judgment she cracked open an eye to see Harry looking straight at her; a small smile crossed his lips. His boots were propped up against the outside rail of her bed, and he was slouched into the hospital chair, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Your eyelids flutter when you're pretending to be asleep." His quiet voice filled her head. She allowed the other eye to open but didn't move.

"Hi." Her voice was softer then she had expected.

"Hi." He whispered back. "You can go to sleep if you want."

"Not tired."

"That makes two of us." He glanced over at the tray still full of Jello, "Are you thirsty?"'

"Yes." She whispered again. His feet gently hit the floor and he lurched forward out of the chair toward the small side table. He was still in his…Saturday clothes. She knew she couldn't say the word, she was grateful for this small patch of normalcy; the word would have brought on another fit. He held out the paper cup to her and she snaked a hand out from under all her blankets, still staying in her curled up position. They looked at each other while she sipped on the water, his eyes probing into her, just like she had expected. He held onto the rail of her bed,

"How are you feeling?" His voice was so low it rumbled in his chest. She thought of her immediate response of tired, but then decided to be honest,

"Sad."

"I know." His hand snaked across her blankets and rested on her exposed arm, her hand still holding the cup. "Me too."

He continued to hold onto her arm, but looked past her to the far wall. She was grateful that he wasn't looking right at her, that would have kick started the tears again. Thinking about the tears, and her sadness made that familiar panic rumble in her chest.

"Do you need anything?"

"Distract me." She whispered, more as a plea to her brain then to Harry but he immediately cleared his throat.

"I like to think of all the funniest moments of my life." He started. His hand traveled up her arm, under the pink blankets. "It has helped me before, after…" he dropped off, Ginny's mind immediately filled in the blanks: Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, last year, him. His hand continued to rub her upper arm and shoulder. "Like the look on Malfoy's face when we were in the Forbidden Forrest my first year. He screamed like a little girl." Harry started softly laughing, the vibration of it going through his entire body. It reached her arm and continued to her. She could feel the warmth of his hand on her shoulder, gentle pressure. His body was leaned up against the rail of her bed as he stretched his arm fully out to touch her. "Or the look on Ron's face when he got that awful Christmas present from Lavender." He laughed again, but never looked down to see if Ginny was enjoying his stories. She liked the distraction, but smiling was never going to be an option.

"You weren't at Hogwarts yet, it was my first year. But I still remember, to this day, how frightening Hermione was when she had a plan. She took Neville out so quickly I am still impressed. You'd think Ron would have remembered that later on…but then again he did deserve the birds." He continued to look at the wall but his fingers strained to rub along her arm. His voice and methodical movement was ebbing away the flashes of sadness that threatened to bring back the tears. She had been awake for far too long today. She would be a zombie again soon. This thought brought a tremor of panic through her lungs, she didn't quite know if it was because she would be forced into sleep again, unresponsive, or if it was because she didn't know if she would ever feel this normal again. Somehow the thought of falling back asleep made her think her progress today would disappear and quickly twist up into another nightmare. Harry had fallen silent in her moment of panic, he looked at her and she paid attention this time. Huge bags were forming under his eyes, deep dark black half circles, and the white surrounding his green was bloodshot and watery. It seemed like the bed rail was holding him up.

"Tired?"

"No, Ginny, I'm fine." He squeezed her shoulder.

"You should sleep." She tried to keep the words from slurring together. Her mouth had fallen out of practice of holding a conversation.

It all happened very fast. The door swung open in a large swoop, not the normal crack. Harry's hand tightened on her shoulder as he tried to pull out his wand from his back pocket. A blinding flash filled the dark room, and then three bodies pushed into the space. There was a loud clatter as an object fell to the floor, something that sounded like punching, and then muffled moans. Two enormous wizards were holding a smaller wizard. One stomped on the object on the floor and it shattered into pieces.

"Oh come on!"

"You shut it!" The big wizard reprimanded.

"I think we have a nice room for you at Azkaban." The destructive wizard sneered. He then quickly turned to the two of them, "Sorry Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley."

"S'okay." Harry mumbled and dropped his hand, his wand lightly hanging in his fingers. With a swipe the camera pieces were off the floor and the three exited just as quickly as they had entered.

"What?" Was all Ginny was able to get past her lips. Her mind was flooded with endorphins at the sudden rush of activity. Harry snapped his eyes back to her and slumped against the bed rail.

"Photographers, reporters. They have been trying to get a picture of me. The hospital had to hire guards to watch over your room." He closed his eyes, pushed his glasses onto his forehead and pinched the bridge of his nose. When she though he was done he then started to rub his eyes, and finished with a large sigh, the glasses fell back into place.

"Sorry." She whispered again, it seemed to be the highest volume her voice would go.

"Don't be sorry Ginny. It would have happened no matter where I was. I just wish you didn't have to be a part of it." He let go of the rail and fell into the chair. It almost looked like the chair was absorbing him he had sunk so deep into it.

The words hit her ears, and as she processed it her chest twinged with a new pain. It wasn't the rising panic, or the suffocating despair, the way he had worded it had created a strange feeling. She realized it was hurt. His words had stung. In an almost clinical detachment from her body she examined the words in her mind, closing her eyes so she could see them pass over and form the sentences. 'I just wish you didn't have to be a part of it'. Had he meant for it to be mean? No, she decided. There was no reason to be hurt. This new feeling, as well as the slue of feelings that had surfaced through her pain today stuck to her psyche.

'I must be getting better,' she thought. She believed it mostly because she had not remembered feeling anything other then pain for a very long time. Maybe it had only been a few weeks, but it felt like her life had been submerged in pain, and she was only now seeing the light breaking through from the surface. She opened her eyes back up and Harry was asleep. She knew he was sleeping when his mouth hung open, otherwise he was pretending. She wondered for a moment what he would look like if he had been lying down, she had only seen him fall asleep sitting up lately.

She pressed the nurse button and Jenna glided into the room. She took one look at Ginny before she swept into the dark cave and saw Harry fast asleep. He was already starting to snore.

"The peach one or the fuchsia one?" Jenna whispered.

"Peach." Ginny answered and Jenna picked up the blanket off of Ginny and laid it across Harry's sleeping form.

"He usually sleeps when he comes here. He's been getting the shift of your actual sleep pattern in the last few days."

"Oh." She struggled against the mountain of blankets to sit up. It would seem the adrenaline from the photographer was going to stick around for a bit.

"Let's get some real food in you." Jenna picked up the untouched tray of food and with a wave of her wand the food started to steam again. "Start with the potatoes."

Jenna fixed the blankets around her, and with a strong arm steadied her upright. She placed the tray on Ginny's lap and stuck the fork into the potatoes. At first Ginny thought she might not be able to feed herself, she hadn't used her muscles in a really long time. But the un-breaking stare of Jenna forced her hand to wrap around the fork, and soon enough the potatoes were in her mouth. Jenna quickly slipped the silver foil onto her forehead and watched her eat.

"They are thinking about sending you home Monday. How do you feel about that?" Her voice was low, but not whispered. Ginny shrugged. She wasn't sure what to feel anymore. Between her emotions waking up, and the constant threat of hysteria, she was going to let everyone else tell her how she should feel. Jenna pulled the strip away and it was light blue. The color of the summer sky she should have been enjoying. She held it between the two of them for a moment.

"You don't have to go if you aren't ready."

Ginny looked at Harry again, his face tense and worried even in sleep, his body slumped into an uncomfortable position in the chair. She thought about Hermione dosing off in the chair and then quickly standing back up to grab Ginny's hand when she thought she was sleeping. She tried to remember the brief appearances of her family over the last few weeks. Each with a look of concerned pain as they watched her every move. Finally, she thought of Neville, his bright and optimistic approach to helping her. She wasn't sure. She wasn't used to making her own decisions for what felt like forever now. She decided that she didn't even have the energy to lie,

"I don't know."

"Don't worry, you will." Jenna smiled warmly at her, and then started cutting up her meatloaf.

* * *

_She was running through the halls of Hogwarts. Everything was wet with rain and slick with the slime of moss. She could hear her breath cling to the walls; she heard her footsteps disappear into the stone. She slid around a corner and a bright light assaulted her. She covered her eyes with her arm and started moving slowly towards it, ignoring the rising fear. She thought she saw something move in front of the light for a moment, a tall figure blocking out the blinding white sun. It opened back up upon her and she felt her feet slip into puddles of water. She looked down at her feet to avoid the light for a moment and something was wrong. It wasn't water, it wasn't moss, it was red. With a horrified gasp, which echoed toward the light, she realized it was blood. Against her will her hands started to move down toward the source of the all the pools of blood. In an instant the light disappeared, her eyes adjusted, and dead chickens filled the hall. Chocking out the air, covered in flies from decomposition, the blood started to soak through her shoes. She struggled against her panic to move back ward and fell into an object._

_"Hello again, little one." Tom Riddle laughed at her. Panic seized her frozen. She fell limply to the floor, and he stepped over her body._

_"Ginny?"_

_She struggled against herself and towards the voice, it seemed like it was behind her._

_"Ginny?"_

_The voice calmly asked again. Riddle sneered down at her. The blood started running down the hallway towards her._

"Ginny, dear?" This time a hand snapped her out of the hallway and she looked at the face of her mother. "Are you alright?"

Her eyes darted around the room, the curtains were wide open, and the summer breeze was floating in across the floor. Her mother was still holding onto her shoulder, her eyes tight with worry.

"I'm fine. Nightmare." She was relieved that her voice didn't crack, her chest was still heaving from the panic.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Molly smoothed her hand down her arm and grabbed her hand. Ginny looked around the room. All the flowers were gone, all the extra blankets were gone, regular clothes were folded at the foot of her bed. What day is it? What is going on? Where am I? Did I change rooms? The sudden loss of everything familiar sent her into another surge of panic. Molly misread it in her eyes,

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"Where am I?"

"Your hospital room." Her Mum started carefully. "Today is your last day, you're going home dear."

"Right." She shot back, trying to control her breathing.

"Do I need to get the nurse? Do you feel alright?" She let go of her hand and moved toward the door.

"I'm fine, Mum," she though it sounded convincing enough. Molly nodded tightly and pressed her lips together for a moment.

"I picked your favorite outfit." She stiffly moved over toward the clothes and started smoothing them out on the edge of her bed. Ginny looked down at the blue jeans and striped pale yellow and blue t-shirt. It was her favorite shirt.

"Thanks Mum." She mumbled and pulled the covers off her still damp body. The nightmare had left her sheen with sweat, as the air hit her she shivered.

"Let's get you out of this gown." Her voice was warm again, and within a snap her mother had pulled off the gown and was handing her undergarments. When Ginny pulled the shirt over her head she noticed it didn't fit quite right, but her Mum was moving too fast for her. Her jeans were next and then some socks and shoes, that her Mum refused to let her do. She was sitting at the edge of the bed, in clothes for the first time since she could remember, when her Mum started brushing her hair. The familiar, gentle strokes lulled her into some security. She was still cold without her mountain of blankets, but the long brush strokes were distracting her.

"Everyone is waiting for you downstairs. We got a car to take us to the border of the house. Unfortunately, the apparition ban is still in effect, this time because of reporters. I'm afraid they have no sense of decency anymore."

"Oh," was all she could think to respond. Her hair was being tugged and twisted into a ponytail on the back of her head. She knew she couldn't think. Thinking would make her momentary control disappear, so she was still just taking orders from everyone. Mindlessly taking orders.

"Are you ready love?" Molly moved around the bed and offered an arm to her daughter. With a tender pull she was up onto her feet, and her jeans immediately fell off her body. Ginny sucked in a shocked breath and Molly released her immediately and bent down to get the jeans.

"No worry, no worry, I'll fix them right now." Molly pulled out her wand, pulled up Ginny's jeans on her body, and started tapping the fabric. It quickly cinched up and formed back to her much more slender figure. She was expecting a comment about fattening her up, but a look at her Mother's face proved that was not coming. She looked like she was choking back tears. With a tight nod, she offered her arm again.

A few soft steps and she realized she was moving away from her bed, her comfort, her home. The safety of the hospital, the constant supply of sleeping potion, the ability to pretend to be asleep and people believing her, was all gone now. Just as they hit the door it slowly cracked open to reveal Jenna and a few of the other nameless nurses from her stay.

"We just came to say good bye." Jenna warmly started. Her mother dropped her arm and took a step aside. Each of the nameless nurses gave Ginny a tight hug, and then they pulled back to show off a too bright smile.

"You'll do just fine love!"

"Good luck!"

Ginny tried to summon a smile to her lips but she didn't remember how. Instead she just nodded her head and kept her eyes toward the door. It was Jenna's voice that cut through again.

"We left instructions with your mother and with your boyfriend. So there are two people that will be able to help you. The both have access to your sleeping potion prescription should you need to order more. But you won't need it. You'll be fine Miss Weasley." Jenna put a hand on her arm, and gave her a deep, long look. "It will get easier. Just give it time. And remember to rest."

Ginny locked eyes with Jenna for a moment, in their depths she could see the calm strength that only mediwizards have, the ability to see through the current panic to what needs to be done, to what will happen. In Jenna's eyes, she knew she would get better. It was everyone else's that worried her. She gave Jenna a nod as well, and managed the only thing she could,

"Thank you."

She could hear her Mum snuffling in the corner and slowly turned to look at her. The nurses took that as their leave and started to file out of the room. Jenna gave her arm one more squeeze and left as well. A strong arm was around her shoulders this time as they made it to the threshold.

"You'll do fine. I don't think you'll ever have to do it, she's on the mend." Jenna's voice filled the busy hallway and Ginny looked to her left to see Harry give Jenna a skeptical look. It was only then that her mind broke free to remember their conversation and one word passed over her thoughts, 'boyfriend'. Apparently, Harry was her boyfriend, again. Before she could start to form feelings about that her chest sent off a shot of pain and she clenched inward. Emotions were dangerous, better to mindlessly take orders and stay sane. Jenna clicked off down the hall, her mother let out another sigh, and Harry turned to look at her. He didn't smile, for that she was very grateful, she couldn't take any more pretend smiles. With a deep breath he pulled something out of his back pocket and looked at her Mum instead.

"Ron says they're everywhere downstairs. I brought it in case you thought it was a good idea." A silky material slipped through his hands. "The nurses said we could take her out the back, I told Hermione to have the driver move. It would just be a precaution."

"No, I think it's a good idea. It might be too much."

She looked between the two of them, and something bubbled in her chest. She thought it felt familiar, maybe anger or rage or indignation. But instead her chest felt a twinge that reminded her to just take the order and stop thinking. Admitting defeat she looked down at her sneakers and the shiny wood floors.

"Ginny, love," her mother waited until their eyes met. "We are going to have to go out the back of the hospital instead. Harry brought his invisibility cloak. We want you to put it on, just in case things get a little bit too hectic."

"Okay," she dipped her head down again and obeyed the order. Harry moved forward and let the fabric unravel even further. His arms moved around her to place the cloak onto her shoulders and she realized just how close he was. No one had been that close to her since before the war. She could feel his breath fall across her face, moving the errant strands of hair on her neck. He smelt like the lavender laundry soap her mother used. He let out a nervous laugh under his breath as he fumbled with the material,

"Haven't had to wear this in a while.**" ** His hot breath tickled the hairs across her neck again. She never looked away from his face, enjoying the closeness. Next he grabbed the hood and pulled it over her head. The flap covered her face and she looked out through the fabric, able to see perfectly. So this was the infamous invisibility cloak she'd heard so much about.

"Can you walk on your own?" Harry was still looking right at her. She nodded a yes and his face grew even more concerned. His eyes darted all around her, and that's when she realized she was actually invisible.

"Yes." Relief filled his face.

"Just follow your Mum, and I'll walk behind you. People will think we are just leaving." He gave her a nod, and she remembered this time to answer aloud.

"Fine."

Without wasting any more time they took off down the hall. As they passed room after room she couldn't help but look in on the others. She had never met anyone during her stay, but she had to know at least one other person was here. She had to know she wasn't the only one that couldn't deal with the aftermath. Sometimes they were staring out the window; sometimes they were staring blindly at the walls. Other rooms held pretend sleepers, and real sleepers. With each passing room her hope started to grow, if only in immeasurable amounts it was so small. But it was there, the proof, she wasn't alone. They made it to the lifts and she stopped right behind her mother, Harry ran into her.

"Sorry." He mumbled and took a step back. Her mother's eyes scoured the crowd waiting for one of the two lifts; it was a small group, about five. They could not keep their eyes off Harry; she could see it on their faces, the disbelief. Before anyone could say anything the doors opened for the first lift and the group of five climbed in, Harry pulled something out of his pocket and looked like he was examining it. As he held the object further out from his body his hands ran into her, and then gave her a push toward the second empty lift. The door closed on the whispering five, and with another prod she was inside.

"How are you doing dear?"

"Fine." Ginny answered back and looked in amazement at their reflections off the shiny metal doors. Her mother was standing against one of the walls; her arms limp at her sides. She was in a bright yellow dress with green and red flowers daintily embroidered into the fabric. It was one of her favorite dresses, but Ginny couldn't help but notice it seemed off from her memories. Usually her mother's clothes reflected her mood that day, this dress had always represented a happy day. The exhaustion in the bags under her mother's eyes, the worry lines that had creased up her face, the white of her pressed lips, all these things contradicted the memory of the dress. Her mother wasn't even pretending to smile, which she did on all occasions, no matter how angry or upset she might be. Harry wasn't wearing anything she remembered. He had on dark jeans, black sneakers, a grey t-shirt, and a dark brown jacket. His hair was falling over his face, obscuring most of it. If she didn't know any better she would say he was trying to hide. She remembered the reporter breaking into her room and realized why he might have needed the invisibility more then her.

She looked at the reflection again and couldn't take her eyes away from the empty space between Harry and her mother that seemed to fill the elevator. The empty space that had become her life, become her, invisible. Suddenly the cloak felt like it was choking her. She couldn't breathe through the fabric anymore. She had to see her reflection, she had to make sure she was alive; she had to make sure she was real. She ripped the cloak off her body. Harry jumped to put it back on, her mother started to as well, she fought them both and moved to the back corner of the elevator. They both turned to face her, their backs to the doors.

"I can't wear it."

"Ginny just put it on. It will make all this easier for you." Her mother calmly held out her hand, gesturing for her to come back so she could put it on. The elevator clicked to the third floor.

"I can't." She sucked in sharp breath. The panic was starting to settle back in. She would never let that cloak touch her again. She couldn't disappear, she had to be real, she had to be alive.

"Ginny don't argue. Just put it on." Her mother took a stern tone. Harry's green started bouncing back and forth between the two of them, the cloak still hanging in his hands. The elevator clicked to the second floor.

"If she doesn't want to Mrs. Weasley," Harry started but then his voice fell off at her look.

"She can't even look at her brother's without bursting into tears. What do you think the thirty reporters with their flashes and questions and pushing are going to do to her? She won't be able to handle it." Mrs. Weasley turned back to Ginny. Ginny felt the panic hit her throat; she could feel the scream starting to build in her lungs. The elevator clicked to the first floor.

"I can't." She choked out, the tears already starting to pool in her eyes. She knew she had to come up with something more then that, but her mind could not produce anything but panic.

"You will." Her mother calmly stated. "It's for your own good Ginny. I can't stand to see you get hurt anymore." She grabbed the cloak out of Harry's hands and moved towards her.

"I'm not invisible! You can't hide me!" She screamed. The tears started to pour down her face; the sobs broke through and made her whole body shake. The invisibility cloak fell to the floor and the three stood there in shock as the elevator let out a soft ping for the lobby. They could hear the crowd through the metal doors; they only had a few seconds. Ginny knew it was all ruined now, she couldn't stop the tears or the sobbing, her mother was in shock, and Harry was frozen. As the doors started to creak open he moved faster then she had ever seen him move.

The cloak was quickly shoved into his back pocket, he gave Mrs. Weasley a gentle push into the right direction, and it seemed to shake her from the shock. As the doors opened all the way she felt the shockwave of sound that erupted from the outside. The flashes reflected off the tears still hanging on her eyelashes and in her eyes, blinding her. Suddenly, Harry's strong arm was around her, his chin was ducking her head against his chest. They were moving so fast that she could feel his arm muscles flex against her ribs, he was dragging her as fast as he could. The crowd seemed to pulse and flex around them, the sound that hit her ears weren't even words just a cacophony of noise. The flashes continued to blind the area around them; the mix of it all was as bright as the sun.

Harry dragged her through a door and barked at two men, "Some help?"

"Alright, break it up!" A booming voice yelled over the noise and Harry released his hold a bit. She looked up, blinking away the remaining tears to see the door to a beautiful black Ministry car. Harry released his grip and held onto her hand to help her into the car. He climbed in behind her, and as soon as the door shut the car took off.

Ginny settled down next to her Mother, Harry on the other side. She looked up to see her family staring at the still frazzled Mrs. Weasley, the angry Harry, and her still sniffling self. They were all there, well…not all of them. She tried to imagine the silence that filled the car was a reflection of the shock of the reporters and the scene of the three of them entering. It was her Mother's warm hand on her knee that made her believe otherwise. Everyone looked away and her mother whispered,

"You're not invisible Ginevra. You're still here."

The silence never lifted from the car.

* * *

She was in her bed. She was home. Ginny looked out the open window, fluttering the breeze into her room. Around her room were the painful reminders that while she was home, she still wasn't better: the small table full of uneaten food, the bouquets of flowers that people had been bringing in for her, some now wilting, the unopened letters sitting on her desk. She looked at the armchair from the living room, which had been moved into her room for people to sit and watch her. Harry was sleeping soundly in it. His glasses were on the very tip of his nose, his long hair falling into his face, his lips parted as a soft snore escaped them.

It wasn't that her family was scared she would do something rash and unnecessary; it was more that she wasn't doing anything. Many times she would pretend to be asleep so she wouldn't have to talk to them, and she knew it hurt them, but she just couldn't bring herself to talk to anyone. It seemed like such an effort, and every time it made her cry. Every time it made her think of…him. With a stretch she sat up and ran a hand through her hair. She grabbed a glass of water off the table and it clinked against a plate of food. Harry's eyes immediately snapped open, first with a flash of panic, then they darted around to figure out where he was, and finally they landed on Ginny and softened into recognition.

"Hi Ginny."

She nodded at Harry, and took another sip. She could already feel the knot starting to form in her throat. There would be no conversations today.

"Luna keeps asking if you are okay. Neville too. They wanted to come up and see you, but you were…sleeping." Harry brushed his hair out of his face. "I stole some every flavor beans from Ron. Maybe you'd like those instead of toast." He looked at the cold pieces of toast and laughed. Ginny game him a small smile and set her cup down.

"Sure." She held out her hand and he poured the box into her palm.

"Crookshanks keeps trying to sit on your chest and wake you up. I've been telling Hermione to keep him out, but she says he keeps getting away from her. Honestly, I think she's putting him in here on purpose."

Ginny stared at the beans in her hand, silently willing herself to want to eat them.

"Not much to report from the Prophet," he picked it up from the ground. "Quidditch is about to start up again. They nearly have all the teams back in order, and they're saying the first few games of the season will be free. Get everyone back in the spirit, you know." He moved the chair closer to her bed. "Got any cherry pie in there?"

She held out the beans, hoping he would just take them all away. Harry grabbed her hand in his own and searched through the beans with his fingers. "Dumbledore used to love these things."

She felt the tingle in her throat start, and her eyes pricked. The tears, so quick to disobey her wishes, splashed down onto her arm. Harry's finger stilled and then he moved off the chair and onto his knees on the floor. His hand moved up her arm, the other one rested on her bed. His face was level with hers now, and his eyes were bright, shiny, almost like he was about to cry as well. He lifted his hand from hers wanting to wipe away her tears, but instead just let it drop. In a low voice he whispered,

"It's going to get better."

"You think?"

"I know." Even though it didn't make the pain in her heart stop, it made her feel better.

She blew out a miserable breath and let the tears fall more freely down her face. He moved his other hand for hers, and pulled her towards him, sheets and comforters wrapping around them. "I promise." He whispered against her cheek. He pulled away far too soon, and for a flash of a moment she saw the same reaction on his face that she had seen in the Chamber, relief. Relief that she was alive.

* * *

She let the scorching hot water pound at her chest. Her arms were wrapped around her now very thin frame, the water pooling at her elbows and splashing a loud tattoo against the bottom of the porcelain tub. She knew she should get out of the shower, but it was the only 20 minutes of her day that someone wasn't watching her. Although, she could always hear someone close by the door, and they had removed all her razors. The house had basically been 'baby proofed' for her; no sharp objects, no potential chemical accidents, and feather light charms all around the perimeter of the house especially under the windows. Short of baby gates and locking every single cupboard no one could ever get hurt in the Weasley house. Jenna had told them she wasn't a suicide risk, and at first it seemed they believed her, but at least one of them didn't believe now. She didn't have the energy or will to tell them she didn't want to kill herself, and the tears always started to well in her eyes when she tried to speak anyway. Most days she believed she wouldn't, but some days she wasn't so sure.

It had been a Wednesday. She knew it was Wednesday because she took her shower in the afternoon, that way it seemed like she wasn't in a holding pattern of practiced pain. She had climbed up to Ron's room, just to see if he was home and there were boxes on his floor. Ron had been in the room, he saw her, then looked at the boxes, and then promptly slammed the door. It had been a knee-jerk reaction, but it was too late, she had seen what was scribbled on the side of the box: Fred's Clothes. She had stood there, choking on the onslaught of tears for a moment before Harry had rushed up the stair and steered her towards her room again. There wasn't a shower that day, and everyone had taken extra care to hide even the bluntest of objects. She hadn't seen her wand since the war. She thought about it that day.

Pain was the main reason. It was just so painful to have to live through it all. It was amazing how memories could cause her stomach to turn, her chest to burn, and her body to shake. If she weren't so terrified of it she would have found the pain interesting. Instead she just grew to hate her mind even more for deliberately disobeying her orders. If she could have just disappeared into her fog again the pain would have been bearable. Her family had left her alone that first year, she had wandered through the fog until she came back out the other side. They had been silently nurturing her, giving her space and comfort when she needed it, letting her cry on them and not even flinching when her nightmares made her swing out at them. This time they would not even let her sleep by herself, and their grave faces and feather light touches only reminded her that she was still very, very ill. She didn't feel as ill as they were treating her, but she couldn't trust her feelings anymore.

"Almost done, Ginny?" George shouted through the door. She shut off the water and continued to stand in the shower, the water pools at her elbows slowly emptying down her body. If this had been only a year ago George would have made some quip about the amount of hot water for everyone else.

'No use delaying the inevitable,' she sighed to herself and wrapped her towel around her body. It would have been toasty warm if she still had a wand, now it was just rough and cold. She opened the door and George slipped down the stairs.

Picking out her clothes for the day was a troubling task. Since she didn't have a wand she couldn't fix them herself, and she didn't want to remind everyone how painfully thin she had become. The less she saw them try not to wince at her hipbones sticking out the better. Today she decided on her Quidditch warm-up pants and a tank top. It was a little too hot for the pants, but she couldn't tell the difference. With wet hair dripping down her back and soaking into her shirt she sat down at her bed and looked at the tray of food.

It's not that she didn't want to eat; she just couldn't taste anything. Food had lost its taste in the hospital, so far it hadn't returned. The only thing that seemed to break through the taste barrier was strawberry Jello, and there was only so much Jello she could eat, no matter how many buckets Harry seemed to find for her. Dry toast, oatmeal, a bowl of summer fruit, pasties, and a pitcher of pumpkin juice. She appreciated the gesture somewhere in the back of her mind. She was continuing to glare at the food when someone entered the room, the first shift.

"Morning Ginny!"

She spun around on her bed to see Neville's face behind her door.

"Neville?" She felt one of her very rare smiles starting to pull at the corners of her mouth. Neville swung open the door and leaned against the armchair sitting directly across from her bed.

"Thought I'd stop in and see how you were doing. It's been a few weeks now." He gave her a more critical look and then sat down across from her. "Not looking much better I see."

"Well," she shrugged her shoulder, not knowing what to say more then that.

"No matter, how have you been feeling?" He brushed it off with a smile.

"The same." She started picking apart the toast.

"Ah, but you're not the same," he paused to make sure she was looking at him. "You are having a conversation with me, that is tremendously better!"

"I guess you're right." Ginny couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners, it spread across her face and she felt her cheeks twitch at the use. It had been awhile.

"I actually came to see if you would like to go to Hogsmead today," he nodded knowingly as the smile dropped from her face. "But I can see you're not ready for that."

"It's not," her tongue stubbornly disobeyed her and stuck to the roof of her mouth, it was the first warning sign of the tears. Her tongue would push as hard as it could against the roof of her mouth attempting to stop the flood. Neville smiled at her,

"So I finally gave in and bought the Weeping Roses." Ginny leaned back against the wall on her bed. She crossed her legs and let out a deep breath of relief. Somehow he always knew. He handed her the bowl of fruit and she set it in her lap. "Gran thinks that I've taken on too big of a project, but I know I'm up for it."

"What makes them so difficult?" She concentrated on making sure the words were clear and strong, lately she just let everything slur into exhausted clumps. She popped a grape into her mouth.

"They are very temperamental. The wrong temperature, the wrong plants next to it, the wrong breeze and they will wilt and die. Mind you the wilting happens within seconds, so there's no saving them. One minute they are beautiful, the next the petals are falling to the floor." He leaned across the bed and picked out a grape for himself.

"Why do they call them Weeping Roses?" She shoved a piece of watermelon into her mouth. She still couldn't taste it, but it was giving her something to do with her hands.

"When they survive the first budding the opening flowers drip out a very powerful extract. It comes out of the opening flower in drops, so it makes them look like they are crying."

"Then why not call them Crying Roses?" Another melon piece found it's way to her mouth.

"Weeping is a bit more dramatic, don't you think?" He smiled again and fished around for another grape. Ginny gave him a nod in agreement. "I have a plan for these. I intend to have them give me at least one harvest." He snatched up a piece of toast and leaned back in the chair. "Isolation. I'm going to grow them in their own greenhouse inside my greenhouse. That way I can regulate the temperature, wind, water, everything."

Ginny felt something nagging at the back of her brain, but instead of a possible backfire in thinking she reached into the bowl again, to find it empty. She looked at the bowl for a long moment before Neville took it out of her hands and handed her a piece of toast.

"Some would say that isolation would hurt the situation, there is a certain degree of competitive nature in magical plants. But I think that if it can see the other plants around it, but not let their environment distract it, we will have a fully bloomed flower by winter."

"You're acting like it's a," the final word stuck in her mouth and the dull light of thought at the back of her mind flashed bright. The buckshot of pain exploded in her chest.

"Person?" Neville finished for her. She wrapped her arms around her chest and leaned forward, the toast crumbling onto her sheets. With a tiny nod, she squeezed herself tighter to try and ebb the pain away. "It's because they are. Weeping Roses are so temperamental that they are nicknamed the 'girlfriend of botany'."

She knew she should have laughed, it was a funny analogy, but her body still refused to let go. Her arms trembled a little against the forceful waves of pain that continued to ripple through her.

"There's nothing wrong with isolation, Ginny." Neville started in a soft voice. "Sometimes it's the only way." He reached across the bed and gave her arm a squeeze. His warm hands burned against her clammy skin. She was still damp from her dripping hair, and her body's reaction was causing goose bumps to explode all over her arms.

"I know." She gritted out between her teeth. He continued to hold onto her arm until she slowly let go of herself and slumped against her crossed legs. Neville grabbed a quilt and threw it over her.

"Did you hear about The Three Broomsticks?"

"No." She whispered and flopped down onto the toast crumbs. She pulled the quilt closer and snuggled down into her pillow.

"They are going to have a butterbeer drinking contest. Winner gets free butterbeer for a year." Neville laughed as if he hadn't just seen her crumpled over in pain. "I don't know how you'd want butterbeer after drinking so much you get sick."

"When?" She felt a woozy pulse of exhaustion; she closed her eyes for a moment.

"This weekend. I don't think you'll be ready, but I'll come back and let you know." He threw another comforter over her and Ginny felt her tense body slowly melt into her bed. "You should sleep, it will help you more then the food."

"Tell that to my Mum." She slurred and let the sound of his soft laugh fill her mind before her body gratefully slipped into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

"That's not what I'm saying."

"Then what are you saying Hermione?"

"Maybe we're being _too_ careful."

"Maybe." Ron paused. "But look at her, any thinner and she'd float away."

"She'll gain the weight back."

"And she holds onto herself all the time."

"Maybe she's cold."

"She looks like she's in pain."

"She is in pain Ron. But that doesn't mean she should be held captive."

"She's not captive. She's the one that keeps coming back to this bed. It's just like before, but worse."

"Well I wasn't here the first time, but I'm here now."

There was a little pause, someone shifted in the armchair.

"So what are you suggesting?"

"That we all back off a little bit. Maybe not watch over her while she's sleeping to start with."

"Makes sense, what else?"

"Why don't we ask her?"

"She only talks to Neville. How are we going to get anything out of her?"

"Has anyone tried?"

His silence was her answer. Hermione let out a little huff.

"Well she's talked to me, and she talks to Harry, because we tried. Maybe just smile at her and start talking about anything. That's what Neville does."

"I always say the wrong thing, she winces all the time."

"Ugh, have some patience Ronald!" Hermione hissed as loud as she could. She heard her bedroom door creak open and the two froze.

"You know she's awake, right?" Harry announced to the room. A flash of indignation pulsed through her at their break in confidence. "Your Mum's looking for you Ron."

Ginny opened her eyes and narrowed them onto Harry; she hoped it looked like a glare. She was still fumbling with regaining her old flair for the dramatics. The room was glowing with red and yellow light from the dying sun. Ron was still flopped over the armchair his legs hanging off one of the arms. Hermione was perched on the other arm, her feet tucked under his body in a little bit of an intimate way. Harry was leaning against the doorjamb, his serious green eyes still locked on her.

"Ron?" Her mother called up the stairs and he rolled his eyes and grabbed Hermione's ankles to steady her as he rolled off the armchair. She daintily filled the spot and Harry moved into the room to let Ron pass.

"So what do you think, Ginny?" Hermione leaned forward onto her knees and looked intently at her face.

"It'd be nice." She said evenly. This was going to be more then one question; she had to save her energy.

"What would be nice?" Hermione pushed.

"To sleep alone." She threw the blankets off of herself and let the cool evening air hit the sweat that covered her body. No matter how cold her mind made her think she was she always woke up covered in sweat.

"And what else?" Hermione leaned back in the chair, attempting to seem casual. Ginny stretched out her legs a bit before sitting up. She looked over at her arm and saw the toast crumbs embedded into her skin.

"Not so much food. It's overwhelming." She brushed them off and with a quick flick of her wand Hermione had banished them leaving her bed clear of debris.

"Anything else?" Hermione glanced at Harry, who still had his back against the wall, watching her every move.

"I want my wand back." She watched as both Hermione and Harry took in a short breath of shock. They were holding back the initial 'No' that she had expected.

"I don't know about that one Ginny." Hermione quietly answered. Ginny had been expecting that answer. She swung her legs over the side of her bed and twisted her still wet and now sweaty hair off of her neck and into a low bun. She knew the reason they were all reluctant to give her the wand back, but they didn't need to worry. She locked eyes with Harry, he pressed his lips together in preparation for the question he knew was coming.

"Do you think I'm going to kill myself?" She didn't even bother to look at Hermione. She had observed over the past few weeks that, short of her parents, Harry seemed to be in command of all things that pertained to her. He was the one that had ordered more food, he was the one that had brought the armchair up, and he was the one that relieved her family when they had other obligations. At first she thought it was the almost obsessive nature within him, but then she realized that he had nowhere to go, he had nothing to do, he had no obligations, none but her, and that's why he had been left in command. He blew out a breath between his lips, now red from the pressure,

"No, I don't."

"We'll talk to Mrs. Weasley." Hermione interjected and Ginny turned her attention back to her, Harry's eyes still roaming over her body, debating and strategizing.

"Then let's have some dinner." Ginny finished and looked out at the twilight that had settled across her backyard.

Dinner had become a subdued affair. The usual shouting, laughing, talking, slapping, and clanging of pots and plates had somehow dimmed. Her few appearances at the table had made it even worse, everyone just watched her push the food around. Harry would always comment on how great the food looked, how delicious it was, and always thanked her Mother. It seemed to be the only old constant that had stuck around. Charlie and Bill were not able to make it tonight, Ministry obligations. Their absence made for three empty chairs; the one between George and Ron was always empty. They still set the table for the empty chair, but no one ever talked about it, and no one dared look at the empty chair. Why would they when they had her to obsess over?

"Ginny!" Her father brightly laughed as she settled down into her chair. "So good to see you love!"

"Hi Dad." She tried to smile back at him. Her father almost lived at the Ministry now. She had heard her Mum and Dad fight about it a few times, late at night when they thought everyone was sleeping. He was one of the trusted few that had been hand selected to help rebuild the country, the Ministry, and the morale. She had also heard Harry's name dropped a few times in the heated arguments between her parents. It would seem Harry's opinion on everything was something that the Wizarding World, in general, wanted but her father absolutely refused to let him out of the house. In light of the conversation this evening Ginny looked over at him, spinning his fork over his fingers, it would appear that they were kindred captives.

The food floated in from the kitchen and landed on the table with a thump. Mrs. Weasley took her usual spot and her eyes landed on Ginny with surprise.

"Hi dear. What would you like to eat?" She started sticking spoons into everything and awaited her answer. This would usually be where the empty chair would have piped in and claimed favoritism. No one spoke up,

"The soup looks good."

Her Mum smiled, a real smile, and immediately started heaping the steaming meal into a bowl. She floated it down to Ginny and then looked expectantly at everyone else. The table soon grew into white noise as people piped in on what they wanted, plates and pots started clinking against each other, and the chairs and table creaked with everyone's movement. As their plates and bowls filled Ginny looked around the table to see who would start the conversation. Everyone just stared down at their plates and seemed to tuck into the food. She put a still steaming spoon of soup to her mouth and swallowed. Still no flavor.

"How are the captures going Mr. Weasley?" Hermione started. He gave Ginny a wary glance before he started.

"As well as they can be. We are very short on Aurors right now. We lost a lot in the war, as I'm sure we all know. So they have tried to target sure things, rather then days of waiting."

"Aren't they trying a recruitment program to get more Aurors?" Hermione continued. Mr. Weasley pulled at his tie and gave a quick glance at Mrs. Weasley who refused to look up.

"They are, but morale is low. People aren't quite sure they're ready to be in more trouble again. Everything is just starting to slow down."

"I would have assumed that at least some of our graduating class would have gone for it. Have you had no inquiries?" Hermione cut her food as she talked. She was quite invested in the conversation; she watched her father's face slowly start to blush.

"I think you lot are still a little too young for that. You have so much living to do, why go into one of the most dangerous jobs so young?" He pulled at his tie again and Ginny saw his face grow even darker red. He shot a glance at Harry who was giving unnecessary attention to his peas.

"What about Harry?" It slipped out of her lips so easily it almost felt normal. Harry's shoulders clenched, his fork slipped with the force he exerted on it, and peas flew everywhere. The family was already frozen at her speaking, so the peas didn't seem to faze them. "All he's ever wanted to be was an Auror. I think he's even a little over-qualified, wouldn't you think?" She put another spoonful of soup to her lips. She was the only one eating now. She felt an unfamiliar surge of power flair from her chest to her fingertips. Harry straightened up, placed his fork on his plate, and then quietly said,

"Your father's right. Excuse me."

He pushed away from the table and Ginny was the only one that watched him go. She heard the backdoor slam, and then the plates and pots started banging again. No one talked about it further, and dinner continued on in a strange and uncomfortable silence.

* * *

Author's Note:

A big, wonderful, amazing thank you goes out to my team of editor/beta's: Casca, Courtney, and Sara. Thank you again for all your encouragement.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 3~

_How can I decide what's right,_

_When you're clouding up my mind?_

_I can't win your losing fight,_

_All the time._

_Decode by Paramore_

_

* * *

~*~  
_

Ginny had hung around the table long enough that no one questioned her exit. She didn't stay for the whole affair, and the longer she had to look at the food the sicker she would become. She wanted to eat, but everything tasted wrong in her mouth, and she was never hungry. Eating with her whole family had always been a joyful occasion, even at Hogwarts. Now she almost wished it wasn't a necessity, just to take the pressure off her. Her whole family would never be there again. She could tell she was far too thin, that much was apparent, but food had been and continued to be the one thing she just couldn't fake.

It was a clear, dark night, the patio seemed cool and inviting from the inside of the house. The kind of night that she would have been playing exploding snap with her brothers until their mother would yell at them for laughing too loud so late. Harry was slumped into one of the chairs on the patio, facing out towards the yard and the stars. No one else had attempted to follow him after his hasty retreat from the dinner table; she'd never seen him do that before. Yet, because she was the only one watching him she was starting to get the idea that this was a common occurrence as of late.

"Harry?" She pushed the screen door open; it squeaked a tiny bit as she walked through it. He did not stir. "Harry are you okay?"

She walked around the chair to find him asleep. He was snoring, his mouth hanging open, but his tired face still looked like he was in pain. She wished she had a wand, only so that she could conjure a blanket for him, he had to be cold. A bitter laugh exploded in her mind, he wasn't cold, only she was, because she was still ill. With a quiet sigh she turned to go when some hair fell in front of his face. She still didn't know why he kept it so long, for a guy it had to be annoying. With gentle hesitation she moved the piece of hair away from his sleeping face. As she was pulling away his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, hard.

"Ah," the gasp of pain escaped from her lips and his eyes shot open. At first they were filled with panic, his hand squeezed harder. "Stop." She whispered. He dropped her hand immediately and shot up in the chair.

"Oh Ginny, I'm so sorry, you startled me." He was on his feet soon enough moving toward her. Ginny continued to back up toward the grass. She was still too startled to form sentences. She grabbed her wrist in her other hand and rubbed it absently. A wave of shivers raced down her body and she convulsed into herself. His hand had moved so quickly that she didn't realize it until he was holding out the conjured blanket.

"Here, you must be cold. I'm sorry."

She looked at the blanket and froze. It looked like all the others in the hospital: some varying degree of pink, fuzzy, and extremely warm. She had a flash of the mountain of blankets piled on top of her as she struggled to control her silent sobs. Next was a flash of her last day, she had noticed that all her blankets were gone, she hadn't noticed that the remaining hospital ones were an ugly off white color.

"It was you. You made all the blankets." She wrapped her arms around herself.

"You always looked cold." He explained, still holding out the blanket but not moving toward her.

"Why pink?" She took a hesitant step toward him, still holding her wrist.

"I just wanted them to be warm, that's the color they came out as." He shrugged and took a step toward her. Ginny gave him a slight nod and he filled the space between them. Gently he draped the blanket over her shoulders and she instantly relaxed into the heat. It was warm. She dropped her hands and Harry grabbed her wrist, examining it.

"It's fine. You scared me more then anything."

"I'm sorry." He mumbled and with a feather light touch turned her wrist over in his hands, still examining it. "I should be more careful."

"Why were you so upset tonight?" She looked up at him and all he offered was a shrug. She pulled her hand away to haphazardly wrap the blanket around herself.

"You look tired, Ginny." He pulled the blanket around her even closer, but didn't let his hands drop. She felt her cheeks blush with heat.

"So do you." She started to examine his face when two shadows tumbled onto the dark patio.

"Come on Harry, come back inside." Ron laughed and wrapped an arm around the second shadow.

"Oh leave him alone." Hermione whispered. They hit the section of patio that was bathed in sliver moonlight and straightened up. "Ginny!" Hermione's smile was genuine and bright as she looked back and forth between the two of them. Harry dropped his hands and took a step back from Ginny. The loss of his hands, rubbing her warmer, made a moment of cold pass across her. With a frown she pulled the blanket even tighter around herself.

"Mum made treacle tart for her favorite son." Ron joked, his arm still slung around Hermione's waist.

"Alright," Harry gave a small smile and put a hand on the heavily blanked small of Ginny's back. With a slight push they all made their way inside. "I'll move the chair out after dessert."

Ginny looked up at him for the second time that night, his face still had the plastered smile, but his eyes looked tired and weary. She silently followed them all back into the house.

* * *

~*~

"Are you sure, Harry?"

"Yes."

"Well…then we should do it."

"Why is everyone acting like this is a bad thing? This means she's getting better."

"You're right, Ron. We should all be celebrating."

"Don't get too excited." Ron grumbled.

Ginny let out another sigh. They hadn't even attempted a shielding charm to stop her from hearing the conversation downstairs. So, either they wanted her to hear, or they thought she was still an invisible zombie. She was banking on the later.

"I'll get that cot ready for you, dear. Maybe you can finally get a good night's rest." Her mother started moving downstairs. Ginny pulled the blanket in closer, letting her body sweat with the heat of it. After attempting to eat some treacle tart she had slowly climbed the stairs to be away from everyone. It was still exhausting to have all their eyes examining her. Nothing had changed since the hospital. Well, almost nothing.

She hadn't had a wave of hysteria hit her since the hospital. She struggled around inside her blanket to get into a sitting position. Why lay down when she was awake? Might as well get used to being alone now. The empty chair seemed to stare at her from across the room. She realized why everyone was scared. If she was getting better, and she didn't want anyone to stay with her, then maybe this was it. Maybe this was who she had become. Maybe she would never be the same person again. She glared back at the chair. Of course she would be the same person again…right?

Her door creaked open and Harry silently walked in. She glared at the chair one more time before fixing her eyes on him.

"Hi, Harry."

"Oh." He turned to her. "Thought you'd be asleep."

"Not tired." She leaned against the wall. He nodded and moved over to the chair. With a swish of his wand it was shrunken down to a miniature size, he put it into his pocket.

"Do you need anything?" He was trying to get a good look at her in the darkness of her room. She felt the blanket heat up further as he moved toward her.

"No."

"Alright," he took a step back and turned toward the door. His hand hesitated, almost like he was waiting for her to say something. "I'll go then. Goodnight Ginny."

"Goodnight Harry."

The door clicked shut with a strange finality behind him. So Jenna was right, she would get better. But maybe the chair was too. She shivered, despite the heat.

* * *

~*~

She hadn't wandered around her house in the middle of the night since the Chamber. Back then she had been afraid of falling asleep; it was always nightmares that plagued her when her eyes closed. So she would wander the house and look at the differences of it in the moonlight. Now she was restless. The exhaustion that pulsed through her during the day forced her into catnaps. Her body was used to it now, and the thought of trying to sleep for longer then an hour made her uneasy. With everyone snoring upstairs she could finally enjoy her house without peering eyes. She creaked down the stairs and heard some noise in the kitchen. At first she wasn't surprised, there is always noise in a magical kitchen. But then she heard real noise and hesitated at the door. Someone was cooking, at two in the morning.

"Crap." Harry exclaimed and something sloped to the floor. With an internal smile Ginny pushed the door open to see him standing over their stovetop. Of course he would be awake. Harry's insomnia was something Ron liked to go on about when he wasn't around. Ron couldn't seem to figure out how anyone could function on so little sleep. Ginny had always been quick to point out that maybe it was Ron that was causing the insomnia, because no one could share a room with his snoring and sleep talking.

She watched him for a moment, waving his wand quickly to clean up the mess and turning back to the stove. He shoved his wand into the waistband of his pajama pants and picked up the pan. Ginny's mouth fell open a little bit as she watched him flip an egg in the pan, by hand. She'd never seen anyone cook without magic before.

"Are you doing that by hand?" It escaped from her mouth before she could stop it. The pan crashed to the stove, and Harry quickly whipped around.

"Ginny!" Relief filled his face and he dropped his wand.

"You're very quick handed with that now." She observed, once again she hadn't seen him grab it.

"Practice." He shrugged and turned back to the egg for a second. He flipped it again, and then slid it out onto a plate. "Are you hungry?"

"No." She couldn't help the smile now. Harry looked down at the pan and quickly responded,

"Of course, I should have known."

"I didn't know you could cook. And without magic, that's wonderful." She moved to stand near the sink, leaning against it.

"I only know how to cook eggs. Well more then that, but nothing like your Mum." He took a fork to the egg and cut it in half, with a quick stab it was in his mouth.

"She's made a career out of cooking, so no surprise there." She wrapped her arms around her chest. She was wearing a jacket on top of her clothes, not wanting to drag the blanket around.

"So you couldn't sleep?" He finished the egg in a second bite.

"No. Well, I sleep all day, so without a guard I thought I'd wander around." She turned to the side and looked out the window. The full moon was spilling over the grass, shimmering with dew. "Why are you awake?"

"Can't sleep." He moved up next to her and turned on the water. For the second time that night his close proximity made her flush with heat. Harry reached around her to grab the sponge and started cleaning his plate, by hand again.

"So how many things do you continue to do as a Muggle?"

"What?" He looked up at her as he rinsed the plate off.

"You cook by hand, you clean by hand, I just wanted to know what else you do by hand." She attempted a smile and felt her muscles twitch in her face at first with effort. Harry paused for a moment and the reached down by her leg to grab the dish towel. He started drying off the dishes,

"I'd suppose manual labor I'd do by hand. I used to have to do all the gardening and such by hand before. I do try to do almost everything by wand, but some things just…feel right when I do them the proper way." He hung the towel back up, careful not to touch her leg, and then started putting all the plates back. No one would have ever known he made food for himself. There was always missing food in the Weasley household.

"See I would consider magic the proper way." Ginny zipped up her jacket and Harry leaned against the stove to look at her. "But you better not tell my Dad that. Or let him know all your Muggle abilities. He'd make you teach us all."

"Well let's just keep this between you and me. The two insomniacs." He smiled at her and crossed his arms.

"I know why I can't sleep, what's your excuse?" She watched a moment of panic cross his face, but it was quickly replaced with the smile.

"Ron's snoring."

"I guess I should have said reason?" Ginny saw him take a short breath. With a wary glance he answered,

"You don't want to know."

The old Ginny would have pushed. The old Ginny would have moved closer toward him, invaded his space, made him feel safe. That was when she realized she wasn't the old Ginny anymore.

"Alright."

With heavy heart she pushed off from the sink and started softly padding across the floor. Harry let out a giant sigh and lowly said,

"Nightmares. I keep having horrible nightmares."

She turned around and looked at him curiously,

"I guess I just thought you were tired because of me. It can't be easy sleeping in that chair. But now it makes sense."

"Guess I wasn't as discreet as I thought." He bitterly laughed.

"No one can be discreet in this house." She frowned at the thought of their probing eyes.

"They'll pass. They always do. I'm used to it by now."

"You shouldn't be."

"I just don't want anyone to worry."

"Two would be too many, hu?"

He nodded his response. "I just don't want to be a burden."

"Harry," she felt a tiny laugh come out with her scolding tone. Always the martyr. "I think your martyr days are over now. You've earned the right to be a burden."

"Hum," he shrugged and lifted his eyebrows questioningly. She let herself stare at the jade color his eyes were; he was happy. She couldn't count the restless nights, or the never-ending days that she had fantasized, analyzed, and categorized the varying degrees of color in Harry's eyes. They changed with his mood, and as the years had progressed had grown darker and darker. She only had brief shots of memory when they were this color. Early on, before the Chamber, and last year…she stopped the thought. No point in reminiscing about the people they both used to be. Now a kitchen separated them, and she didn't know if he would ever feel the same way about her again, not with this new Ginny at least. She felt a blush start in her cheeks as Jenna's words ran over her brain, 'your boyfriend'. Maybe she had just meant boy that was a friend, but Ginny knew better.

"What are you thinking?" His quiet voice in the silent kitchen still startled her. For a moment she felt a slick sweat of panic cross her palms. She didn't realize she was nervous about the truth of her thoughts. Maybe parts of the old Ginny were still there; maybe the parts that could love people, and interact with them were just dormant. The truth stuck in her throat, her palms were now damp with anxiety. She figured the best way to respond was the non-verbal kind, the ones that Harry seemed to be so fond of.

She shrugged her shoulders, and Harry smiled. "Alright then." He stretched his arms above his head and let out a giant yawn. "I'd hate for you to think of me as a warden, so I'll leave you to yourself."

"You're not a warden," she grumbled to the floor. Harry pushed off from the stove and moved up next to her. The heat blasted through the anxiety and she looked up at him for a second. He was hesitating. She could tell he wanted to touch her, give her some kind of reassurance, like he had done so many times in the hospital. It appeared the new setting of the house had stalled that. As the blush started climbing up from her chest to her face she realized she wanted him to touch her too.

"Goodnight Ginny." He turned and walked away. She let herself cool down before going up to bed herself.

* * *

~*~

She stayed upstairs in her room for most of the day, hiding. No, not hiding, relaxing. At least that was what she told herself. She hadn't bothered to change out of her clothes from yesterday, her hair was a mess, and she was still clutching the pink blanket around her cold frame. Something had changed, that's why she was hiding. No, not hiding, relaxing. She let out a huff of frustration. She didn't have anyone watching her, anyone judging her, anyone probing her with questions. She was all by herself now, in her quiet room, the window letting the warm summer breeze in. Now she could relax, so why did it feel like hiding?

"Ginny?" She clutched the blanket into her fists and stared at the door. Ron entered and gently shut it behind him. "How are you doing?"

"Fine." She watched him pace around a little bit, not having the chair to fall into.

"Nice not to have us around, eh?"

"Sure." He continued to pace, took a deep breath, turned to her and said,

"Look, it's not just you. I keep having nightmares. I keep feeling so guilty about when I left Harry and Hermione alone. We were a team, and I just abandoned them, for stupid reasons. But I have a hard time sleeping too, and I have a hard time feeling happy. I keep thinking it's going to disappear and we're going to have to run again."

"Okay." She watched him suck in big breaths of air as he leaned against the desk. "Want to sit down?" She patted the free bed next to her.

"Yeah." He flopped down and then leaned onto his knees.

"So you left, hu?" She tugged at the blanket a little as she turned to look at her brother.

"Yeah."

"What was the stupid reason?" She thought about snaking a hand out from under her blanket and touching him, that's what the old Ginny would have done. But with Ron hunched over, and his now long hair covering his face she realized he looked too much like…him. She kept her hands inside.

"Fear. I won't lie, I was afraid. And I was uncomfortable, which is bad. But the worst part, the most embarrassing part was Hermione." She watched a deep red creep up from under his collar toward his face.

"What?"

"I had…misunderstood the nature of their relationship." The blush raced into his hairline.

"Oh." Ginny answered. She could see why anyone might have assumed that. Hermione and Harry were very close, some people said too close. But she had always known that Hermione was smitten with her brother. And she had assumed that Ron had known that Harry had liked her. Then again her brother was an idiot, so she couldn't rule that out.

"Yeah, I know. I'm an idiot. You'd think I would have known. But there I am pulling Harry out of this creepy lake, and then jumping in to save this stupid sword that we needed…and what do I do when he's not coughing and spitting? I turn on him. Agh." He fell forward onto his knees. "The things I saw…the things it made me see, made all of us see…that locket."

Ginny kept quiet. She had no idea what he was talking about. She knew it had to do with the time they were away, she knew it must have something to do with dark magic, so that in turn would mean Voldemort. But her brother was in the mood to spill, which he rarely did, so she would listen. It was the only thing she seemed to be good at these days.

"I'm sure…"

"That's the worst part. He immediately forgave me. He brushed it all off like it was nothing. He always brushes it all off like it's nothing. Even when I spent half a year at Hogwarts being mad at him it was like it was a day. I want him to be angry. I want him to tell me I was wrong. He's always such a saint."

"But you're all he's got." She felt the tears well up in her eyes with the admission. It was sad to think that all Harry had left now were the people in this house. It made her even more upset that she didn't count herself in the same way anymore. Ron turned to look at her, seeing her eyes fill up with tears; he grabbed her arm through the blanket.

"He's got you too." She rolled her eyes. "No, Ginny, I don't think you understand." He got an uneasy look on his face, but before they could explore it Hermione burst through the door.

"Oh Ron, I didn't know!" She was sobbing, and flung herself onto him, knocking Ginny over in the process. "You could have told me. We don't keep secrets."

"Calm down." Ron was patting her hair, always out of control, and squeezing her tight to him. Ginny just continued to lay on her back, staring at her ceiling, feeling the blanket warm her up.

"It's not just you two. I've had to," she stopped for a moment. Brother and sister looked over, "well I needed some assistance in the beginning. I was awake for 36 hours straight, my parents were so concerned."

"See Ginny, it's not just you. We're all in this together."

Ginny just sighed and looked back up at the ceiling. Of course they wouldn't understand. It was more then just the final battle; it was more then just the war. It was what happened at Hogwarts when they were away, it was having to step up and fill their place, it was not knowing what was happening, it was not knowing if they were all dead, it was Bill, it was Percy, it was the panic that seeped into everyone's bodies at school, it was Voldemort, it was the Chamber, it was the Dementors, it was _him_, it was everything. Everything bad that had ever happened to her, and she'd had a lot more bad then either of them. This wasn't just like everyone else. This was separate, this was different, this was her own, and she was alone. No one could understand, no one. And then her brain shot her a picture of dark green, probing eyes. No, not even him. She closed her eyes and let the tears fall. She was alone, she was empty, and she would never come back. Harry might have saved her once, but even in death Voldemort had stolen her.

She felt it then, the shuddering in her lungs. With break neck pace it seized around her heart, and she was suddenly choking on her tears. The sobs wracked through her body, and in the back of her mind she heard her door burst open for a second time that day.

"Get out."

Ron and Hermione jumped off the bed, still shocked at how quickly she had turned. He grabbed her around the shoulders and pulled her up to a sitting position. With a swift movement he had pried open her still sobbing jaw and knocked the potion down her throat. The draught swirled in her brain. Her body started to calm, and she looked through her tears at his blurry figure,

"No one understands. Not even you."

"Sleep Ginny." He quietly commanded. She gave into oblivion.

* * *

~*~

"I know you're still mad, we're sorry Harry." Hermione was pleading just outside her door. "Can't we just come in and apologize. I feel wretched. She just seemed so much better."

"I think you've done enough damage for one day." Harry grumbled.

"Now hold on, mate. She's my sister. It's not our fault. You told us she was getting better. I thought I could talk to her. I thought we could share, like we used to. You don't understand. You don't have a sibling." Ron's voice started to rise with passion the longer he spoke.

"Ron, please, maybe Harry's right."

"Are you going to hide her from us again? You can't hide her from Mum and Dad."

"They didn't make her hysterical." Harry shot off. "I don't hide her, she wants to be alone."

"How do you know?" Ron argued.

"I just know, alright." The silence filled her mind. She opened her eyes to the dark room, the armchair back in place.

"Harry," Hermione started in a soft tone. "Maybe you should talk to Ron about the map."

"I'm not talking about the map." He snapped.

"What map?"

"What map do you think?" Hermione snapped at him.

"What about it?" Ron still sounded confused.

"I think," Hermione started in her soft tone again, "that if he knew about the map he might understand why you are so…protective of her."

"What's going on?" Ron shouted. "What are you intentions with my sister?"

"Everyone calm down." Hermione squealed and Ginny heard something pop outside her door.

"Enough shields, Hermione. This isn't the tent." Harry barked.

"Maybe if you two could act civilized then I wouldn't have to use it."

"What's going on you three?" Her mother's voice called up to them from the kitchen. She heard her quickly take the stairs.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley." Hermione politely addressed.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Ginny could almost feel the disgruntled look that must have passed across her brother's face.

"She had a bad day." Harry quietly answered. The bickering, the fighting, the lies that seemed to be swirling around the three, disappeared with a snap once her mother arrived.

"How bad?" Panic filtered into her mother's tone.

"Not bad. She'll be fine." He paused as if he was going to add something bad. "She's still sleeping."

"One draught or two?" Her mother continued to worry.

"One. About three hours ago. She should be waking up soon."

"When was the last time she ate?"

"I don't think she has." Harry turned the handle to her door and she heard the soft click of it open.

"Why are you asking him all this?" The indignation was apparent in her brother's voice.

"Because Jenna gave Harry the instructions at the hospital, not you, Ronald." Her mother grabbed the handle of the door and she felt the lights flood her room. She unconsciously winced against the light. "Ginny?" The tone of worry made a small part of her remorseful, she couldn't ignore her mother now. She cracked open an eye.

The frantic concern, the unabashed love all poured out from her mother. She focused her eye on her for a moment, the light giving her a halo of red hair. The sad smile across her mother's face told her more then she needed to know. Yet, there was something else in the room, something that could not be ignored. As she opened her eye she saw him, arms crossed, leaning against her desk. His simmering anger was palpable, she could almost taste it. It mingled with her mother's concern and left a bitter taste on her tongue.

"Mum." She whispered. Tears welled in her mother's eyes.

"Oh my girl, my sweet, sweet baby."

"I'm fine." She coughed on the bitter taste still clinging to her mouth.

"Are you hungry? I'll go get you some food." Her mother touched her face, sweeping her warm, soft hand along her jaw, and then pulled back. Dabbing at her eyes she turned to the three of them, all barely containing an outburst, "Let's give her some space."

"Hermione," Ron offered, and followed her quickly out the door. Her mother gave her one last look and left as well. She watched Harry's jaw flex with stress, and then with a nod stalked from the room. The concern and anger still swelled around her head, she looked down at her blanket, it had draught on it. With a moment of hesitation she peeled the blanket from her, and then shivered instantly from the cold.

She let her skin fill with goose bumps, she felt the cool air circle around her and drank it in. She needed to freeze, it was going to be the only way she could stop it. Being frozen was the only way she could manage now. Being warm, here or at the hospital, had done nothing for her. She was still sick. She let herself shiver.

* * *

~*~

He took his turn at the chair around midnight. Her family had been trying to stick with the 'no warden' policy through dinner and the early evening. She could hear the frantic whispers of her parents downstairs as everyone was getting ready to go to bed. Then Harry's voice answered their anxiety,

"Don't worry, I'll stay with her."

She had drowned them out then, focusing on how cold her room was, how clammy her skin had become. She touched her sheets and felt the cool fabric against her skin. Ice. She had to become ice. Solid, see-through, freezing. She was sitting cross-legged when he had finally entered. She purposely refused to cross her arms, knowing that would give her away.

She didn't pay attention to his gesture of goodwill, the water and chocolate, she didn't pay attention to how exhausted he sounded as he fell into the chair, and she didn't think about pushing the hair out of his face as he sat there staring at her. She had to be ice.

"I know what you're doing." He gave her a sad smile. "It's not going to work."

"What?"

"Shutting yourself off, shutting everyone out. It won't work, not with Ron and Hermione around. Not with your parents and brothers around."

"Sure."

"Trust me, I've tried." She glanced at him, warily. "Ginny, no one wants to talk about this, but you've probably lost about 50 pounds. You need to stay warm, at least to make sure you don't get sick." He was pleading with her. His eyes, emerald, poured over her body, taking in all the defections.

"I'm fine."

"I'm sure." He retorted. She glared at him, he stared right back. "Do you want me to leave? I'm not your warden, Ginny."

"I know that." She gritted her teeth together. A breeze filled the room and she froze, knowing it would give away just how cold she was. A shiver betrayed her and she shook against herself. Her arms snapped around her tiny frame and she bowed her head with defeat. His boots clunked across the floor.

"At least take this," she looked up at the big, fluffy, warm, yellow blanket. He set it down in her lap and closed the door behind him. The chair was gone, her room was empty, and Harry had made her blanket yellow. The ice melted.

* * *

~*~

She was at breakfast, tightly cloaked in the new blanket, picking at toast. No one said anything; no one questioned her strange turn-around. But, Harry's eyes were bright green again; she swore he was hiding a smile.

"So, love," her father started hesitantly, "how are you feeling?"

"Better." She pushed the toast away.

"That's fantastic!" He beamed at her. "Maybe you should go outside today, get some fresh air, some sunshine, before all this rain comes back again."

"Maybe I will, Dad." She looked at him, wanting to give him a huge smile, she felt happy when he was around, but all she could manage was a slight tug of her lips.

"You all should get out of here today. Go pick some apples for me, I'll make us some pie." Mrs. Weasley suggested. "You like apple pie, don't you Harry?"

"I do. I'm sure it would be delicious." Harry answered and grabbed another piece of toast, Ginny caught a dark look pass between Harry and Ron. She sipped on her pumpkin juice.

"Bill and Flure said they will be coming for dinner tonight. It will be nice to have more then just our bunch." Mrs. Weasley started clearing plates.

"I'll try to make it home early, dear." Mr. Weasley stood from the table and brushed off his shirt. With a flick of his wand he cleared the rest of the table and followed his wife into the kitchen.

"You coming, Ginny?" Ron locked eyes with her. She rolled the idea of being out in the sunshine around in her head. She hadn't felt the sun on her face for more then a year. Her father's bright smile filled her mind and she nodded.

"Really?" Ron's voice was incredulous. Harry cleared his throat, obviously annoyed at his response. But it was the first time Ron had treated her like a sister, and not a psych patient. She appreciated the normalcy.

"I'll meet you two up there." She pushed back from the table, picked up the dragging blanket, and moved up the stairs. She heard the exchange before her door closed,

"Hermione teach you that one? Or did you come up with yellow on your own?"

"Shut it."

"At least she's better."

"At least she's getting better." Harry amended.

* * *

~*~

She rolled the apple around in her hand, feeling the firm skin, the slight warmth to it, the stiff and dark green leaves still stuck to the stick.

"Oye!" Ron shouted down and tossed her a few more apples. They fell onto the blanket and she gently picked them up and set them in the bucket. Harry had suggested that they pick the apples by hand; they had shared a private look at his suggestion for manual labor. Ron, never wanting to do anything manually complained, and Harry levitated him up to the apples. Their bucket was almost full when Hermione appeared.

POP!

Within a second of materializing Hermione had her wand out and yelled a spell out. Harry seemed to have lost concentration with Hermione's appearance and Ron was quickly falling out of the tree. Harry recovered and a blue spark rocketed out of his wand. Hermione's spell combined with Harry's caused Ron to shoot up through the branches and leaves and into the sky. With a worried look at each other Harry and Hermione shouted out the counter spell and Ron came shooting to the ground. Apples, leaves, small branches, and a yelling Ron came to a screaming halt inches from the ground, then fell with a spectacular splatter.

"Ron!" They both shouted and raced toward him. Ron was shaking off leaves, and picking bits of apple from his clothes as he sat up.

"Trying to kill me, eh?" Ron fumed at Harry. Ginny sat, wide eyed at the scene before her. The shock of the event still hadn't worn off for her, the three almost seemed used to it. Harry gave Ron a long look and then burst out laughing. Hermione let out a giggle as well and picked out some leaves from his hair.

"You didn't die." Harry laughed.

"Close enough," Ron threw a chunk of apple at him. With practiced Seeker reflexes Harry glanced it off before it could even touch him; Ron shook his head with annoyance.

She was waiting for it, the explosion, the legendary Weasley temper, so quick to build, even quicker to detonate. But her brother didn't yell, he didn't even turn red. With another chunk thrown at Harry he smiled at Hermione and picked up an apple off the grass. The wind swirled around them and rustled up some leaves. Ginny sucked in a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. It wasn't right, it wasn't normal. The three people standing in front of her, chatting and eating apples had saved them all. Only months ago they had been involved in unimaginable horror, yet, now they were laughing like nothing had ever happened. So casual, so normal it wasn't normal.

The shame burned in her stomach. She shouldn't be jealous of them, she should only be grateful; any other feeling _was_ shameful, any other feeling was wrong. Harry laughed again and her head swam, she couldn't even remember the last time she actually laughed.

The scene could have been at Hogwarts, it could have been in Hogsmeade, the three of them, inseparable, locked in this strange bond that kept all their secrets in and everyone else out. She would never belong there; she didn't know why she ever thought she could. Even when she had gone to the Ministry, even when she had spent countless nights with each of their cots in the infirmary, even when she had seen the three standing around in the Underground a small part of her had known. She would never know all their secrets, she would never understand all their jokes, she would never know her brother in the way that Harry did, the way Hermione did, the way Hermione would. When they met each other that fateful day the vacuum seal was created.

Now she had become this horrible burden for them to bare. Ron and Harry out of obligation to her family, Hermione out of obligation to Harry and Ron. Her head swam again and she held her stomach to stop the nausea. They couldn't even enjoy the victory; they couldn't even enjoy each other without the reminder of all that had been lost through her. She had become a physical reminder of the damage, the pain, the fear that still existed outside the Burrow. They couldn't even be happy around her, it made her physically ill. And now she had created some rift between Ron and Harry because each thought they knew how to take care of her, how to bare her. Her stomach rolled heavily now and she managed to suck in a shaky breath.

She had to get away. She had to disappear before her vomit would stop all their fun again. If they would just give her wand back she could have Apparated to her room and locked the door. She cursed the small frame and low lung capacity her hysteria had created. They were still chatting, oblivious to her, she rolled to her knees, bit her lip to stop the heave that threatened, and snapped to her legs. She started walking away as fast as she could. The long grass wrapped around her jeans, almost trying to tug her to the ground, root her in place. The sun beat down on her black jacket and she felt the sweat collect on her back. She fought through the grass until she saw the gate, that's when she heard him,

"Ginny? Ginny? Where are you going?"

She sped up, trying to run, knowing it was only a matter of time before she fell or ran out of energy. Her brain frantically tried to figure out what to say, anything to say, because it knew Harry would catch up.

"Ginny?" Hermione's voice was still far away.

"Where are you going?" Ron had yelled after her. She hit the gate and swung it open with her hip, a burning gasp ripped from her lungs at her jogging pace. He hit the gate only seconds after her. She could see the house now. Her mind screamed at her that attempting happiness today had been a mistake. She was supposed to be miserable, she was supposed to suffer. She clenched her teeth at the gag.

His hand grabbed her arm, firm but gentle, and on fire. Her skin burned through her jacket.

"Ginny?"

His face was nothing but concern. His eyes, so bright green this morning were now clouded with black. She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, trying to stop it. Her body shook with the coming storm, she bent forward, breathing through her nose.

"Please," his voice was so quiet. "Please tell me what to do."

"Oh no," she moaned and couldn't stop the heaving. She didn't need his pity, she didn't need his concern, she just needed to go back to black. Her breakfast, what little it was, exploded out of her, all over him. Embarrassment burned through her, she could feel the heat of blush all over her body as she dry heaved again. His hand never left, she had to escape now.

"It's okay." His voice was a little shaky, but his second hand grabbed her shoulder to steady her. It was the worst thing to say. Anger ripped through the embarrassment.

"No it's not." She cried and jerked her shoulders trying to get out of his touch. Her body burnt with shame and fire. She didn't know which one was going to win this time. "Just let me go, Harry. Let me go." She pleaded, tears starting to fill her eyes. He dropped her, turned sheet white, and took some staggering steps back. She didn't have time to figure out what the reaction was about. She raced across the yard and let the door slam shut behind her.

She propped her door shut with the chair from her desk. Her jerky, emotional movements had knocked over most of her things. Once she knew it would take some effort to get in she looked at the window for a long, scary moment. It would only take a jump to see how much better they thought she was, the lie she had let them believe. It wasn't like it was a long fall, she'd probably break an ankle, and then she could go back to the hospital.

Ron was the first one to bang on her door. Her hands clenched on the window sill at his fist beating against the barricade.

"Ginevra let us in! I've owled Mum, she's on her way. Open the door!"

She ran back to her desk, franticly rummaging through what was left, grabbed the first heavy thing she could find, a paper weight, and tossed it out the window. Just before it could hit the floor it bounced back up and came to a gentle stop, hovering in the air. So they hadn't believed her, they still knew how sick she was. Weariness pulsed through her; she ached for the quiet calm of the hospital.

"Ginny I'm warning you, don't make us destroy the door." Ron was pounding again. Maybe this little stint would be enough; maybe they would realize she would never get better. "Do it Hermione." He commanded.

"BOMBARTA!"

She turned toward her door, needing to at least see the magnificent act that would send her back to the 4th floor. Her door exploded into a thousand wood fragments. They flew to every corner of her room; she covered her face to stop the splinters from impaling her. Behind the smoldering hole of where her door used to be stood a very shaken Ron and Hermione. Ron pushed past Hermione, her arm still in the air from the spell. Stepping over all the brown and white pieces of door he crushed Ginny into a rough grab. It quickly turned into a very tight hug. He wouldn't let her go, despite her slight struggle against him.

"For Merlin's sake, what were you thinking?" His voice was thick. Hermione managed to sort herself out and stood next to them. "Don't ever do that again. Don't scare us like that."

"I'm sorry Ginny, I had to. We didn't know." Hermione was wringing her hands. Ron was still holding her against him. She heard thumping up the stairs and two sets of gasps entered her room.

"Ronald? What happened?" Her mother screeched.

"Ginevra?" Her father's panicked voice was next.

"I'll go find Harry," Hermione whispered and made a quick retreat. It was only with the sound of their approach that Ron finally let go. He made a quick swipe across his face and turned away from them. Her mother and father were next in the smothering hugs. She could feel the panic and sadness seep through their words of comfort.

"It's fine, don't worry love." Her mother smoothed her hair down her sticky back.

"It's safe now, it's going to be fine honey." Her father rubbed her arm.

"What were you thinking?" Ron exploded and turned back to them all.

"Ronald, please, be calm." He extended a hand out to his son's shoulder. Ron shook it off and squared off at Ginny, who was still being smothered by her mother.

"No, I won't be calm. She was going to jump out the window! What is your problem?" He started turning red.

"She is SICK." Her mother spat at him.

"Not any sicker then the Chamber! You're not the only one that went through the war, Ginny. Mum and Dad have gone through two now!" His ears started to turn pink with rage.

"That's not the same thing." His father quickly interjected.

"Do you know what Harry's been though? He DIED! You don't see him jumping out a window! What's your excuse?" He was bright red now, panting. "We miss him Ginny. We all miss him, but that's not a reason to do all this. You're stronger then that. You've always been stronger then us all."

The silence that filled the room was uncomfortable. She felt the tears from her mother hit her shoulder, she slackened her hold. Her thoughts caught up with her ears. Had she just heard that right?

"Harry died?"

Ron gave her a nervous look; he had betrayed some kind of confidence with Harry. He started gesturing about the room with his hands, sputtering,

"Or limbo, or something. I don't really know what happened, I don't really know how half of that stuff happened. I'm still trying to sort that all out. But it's over." He turned his blue eyes onto her, "It's over now. You need to let go, you need to move on. I didn't eat wild mushrooms and canned beans for months so you could sulk in your room."

The overwhelming rush of love surprised her. She moved out of her mother's arms and gave Ron the biggest hug she could manage. He slung his arms around her and gave her some pats. She kept hugging him long after she should have stopped.

"I love you Ginny, you're my sister. It's okay to be sad." He paused for a moment and squeezed her tighter, "Just don't jump out a window. Okay?"

"I love you too, Ron." She sniffled and continued to squeeze. Soon enough her mother and father were surrounding them with hugs as well.

"What in bloody hell happened in here?" Bill's voice boomed into the room.

"Oh my," Fleur was right after him. They both gingerly entered the disaster area.

She searched through the still resonating pain and didn't find a need for ice, or heat, or darkness, just help. Maybe, in the end, this was all she needed. Leave it to Ron to know exactly what to do. He had never been tactful, but maybe that was a good thing. His fierce hug, hugging her like she wasn't porcelain, like she wasn't breakable, was what had tipped the tables. Knowing that everyone missed…him, that everyone was having difficulty with it, just hiding it better, gave her hope. She wasn't better, she still didn't know if she ever would get better, but at least she felt human again. Her arms tightened around her brother again, tears falling down her face.

Bill and Fleur were still taking in all the damage, patiently waiting for an answer. Hermione appeared in the still smoldering hole,

"Harry and I are going to go to my house for dinner. Sorry for any inconvenience Mr. and Mrs. Weasley." She went to duck down the stairs when her parents broke their grip on their two youngest children.

"Why dear? Did you have plans?" Mrs. Weasley gave Bill a pat as she moved toward the door.

"No, it just seems like this is a private, family time. We don't want to intrude." The blush started in her cheeks.

"But you both are family. More then family, please don't think this," Mr. Weasley gestured to all the chaos, "should make you leave."

"'Mione," Ron turned, Ginny still hugging him around the waist. "Stay. Please."

"Ron," she looked up the stairs for a moment and he seemed to understand what she wasn't saying.

"Right." He looked down at Ginny and she let go. "I'll be back."

"Will someone please tell me what is going on?" Bill gestured around the room, annoyed.

"Recovery." Mrs. Weasley's smile was big and bright, for the first time in a long time. Bill glanced at Ginny, who nodded a yes, and then he closed the gap quickly with another crushing hug.

"So this was your handy work, Gin?" He still had her pressed to his chest. Fleur was making her way over to them as well, daintily dancing over the pieces. She answered him,

"No, that was Hermione." Bill let her go and let out a big laugh.

"I should have known. That's a powerful spell Hermione." He took another look at all the damage. "Maybe we should exchange some notes."

"I'm so glad you are getting better, Ginny." Fleur enclosed her into a floral hug.

"Me too." She smiled into Fleur's shoulder and took a step back. Her room was destroyed. It didn't resemble anything she remembered anymore. Maybe this was the first step. If she could never be the same person again, maybe she had to create something new. It seemed it was time to pick up, literally, the pieces of who she used to be and rebuild and recover.

The adrenaline of the incident was starting to wane from her system, her body hurt, but in a good way. She had used her muscles today, actually pumped blood through her body. She wished she could lie down on her bed and take a nap. She looked at her chatting family and noticed the missing three. Hermione had seemed to sneak off. That was when she remembered the look on Harry's face.

She still didn't know what she had said. But it couldn't have been good. What hadn't been apparent to all the adults in the room suddenly clicked in her brain. Harry was trying to leave. The look between Ron and Hermione, his sudden disappearance from a conversation he would have been involved in, the look on his face. Panic seized in her chest, he couldn't leave.

"Excuse me." She jumped over a large chunk of chair and kicked shards of door out of her way as she rushed up the stairs. Her chest did not want to run twice today, it heaved after the first flight. She still had several more to go. She pushed through the burning pain in her lungs, the way her breath ripped at the back of her throat, another flight behind her. She let her lead feet stomp the stairs as she made it to the landing. She could hear them murmuring in Ron's room, she didn't have time to be polite, she didn't have time to wait. The urgency and anxiety gave an awful twist in her tender stomach. She hit the door and threw it open.

"Harry," she panted and grabbed the door to support herself. "You can't leave. I'm sorry."

Everyone froze. Ron was holding onto Hermione, who was sobbing into his chest, Harry's hand was smoothing down her back.

"Hermione?" It hung in the air: her confusion, her worry, her relief. Harry took a few strides across the floor and then gently pulled Ginny out of the room. "What's wrong? Was it me?"

"No." Harry closed the door. She leaned against it, Ron's murmurs softened by the wood. She'd never realized how small the landing was for Ron's room. In the tiny, dark hallway if felt like Harry was inches away. "She's having a hard time with her parents."

"What do you mean?" Harry looked away from her, he was deciding. Maybe it wasn't her business. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't pry." He seemed to relax a little. "Sorry about the…"

"No worries." He turned back to her and smiled. "A little warning next time would be nice." She felt herself heat up the longer they stood. She was still trying to catch her breath, but with the rush of hormones she didn't think she would.

"I'll see what I can do." She looked down at the floor. If it was even possible he moved closer, she could feel the heat coming off his body now.

"I heard Hermione destroyed your door." His voice was lower now that he was so close.

"It wasn't without reason." She wanted to look at him; she needed to know he was still there. She didn't know why he needed to stay very close to her, just that he did. With a breath of courage she looked up into his face. She should have been paying attention, but for a breathless moment she was very alone and very close to Harry, it distracted her. The door to Ron's room opened and she stumbled back. With lightning fast reflexes he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him. She knew her face had turned bright red.

"Oh," Hermione's surprised voice seemed loud in the small hallway. Harry pulled her up next to him and then let go. Hermione's eyes were red and swollen. She was clutching Ron's hand, Ginny tried to pry her eyes away.

"So are you staying for dinner?" Harry's voice was so casual. Ginny looked up and gave him a confused look.

"Yes." She squeezed Ron's hand. With a quick glance at Harry, Ron started leading Hermione down the staircase.

"Will she be okay?" Ginny whispered it.

"I hope so." He whispered back. "We should go down." He moved out of the way and she clomped down to the dining room.

* * *

~*~

_"Now class, I want you to pay attention," he sneered at the group. He moved up and down the rows, his wand held out in front of him. Ginny tried not to look at the front of the class; she couldn't bare to see his face. "This student was caught trying to smuggle some propaganda out of the school. We know he was intending to use the Underground to get it out."_

_He turned around and started walking toward the front of the class. Ginny tried to memorize the page in her book, if she kept looking down this couldn't be real._

_"Since we are on Unforgivables this term I thought we would try out Crucio today. The student that gets the information out of him will have points awarded to their house."_

_A helpless feeling filled her chest. There was nothing she could do. He had been trying to get her the information. The letter his parents had sent to him in code, the knowledge that the three were still alive. It had been crucial information for the Underground. Not only had it raised everyone's spirits, but it had validated that they were doing the right thing. Something Ron, Hermione, and Harry would have done, if they had been there._

_Their mission to get him to the tunnels and make sure his message of what was going on inside the castle walls had failed. Now everyone knew what was coming for him. They couldn't save him now, Ginny least of all. Word from some of the Slytherin spy's was that she was the next target. They'd had enough of her outright indignation and resistance. They were just waiting for the slip up, the indication._

_"Miss Weasley," he leaned down in front of her desk. Ginny continued to stare at her page. Maybe if she didn't look up he would just get angry and give her detention. Then she would have to hide, but at least it would get him out of this. Her book slammed shut with a finality, "I believe it's your turn."_

_"I went last week." Her response was flat and even, the perfect, practiced response. She looked straight ahead, never making eye contact._

_"Oh," he sneered and leaned even closer. "I think you could use the practice."_

_"Fine." She pushed away from her desk. She heard a few low gasps from the crowd. Even after all this time they were still paralyzed with fear over the current situation. She felt bad she couldn't tell them all what was really happening. That Harry was still alive, and that he was going to save them all. She tried to hold onto that thought as she put her wand out in front of her._

_"Now, Miss Weasley, if you will."_

_She looked up at the boy chained to the wall in the dungeon. He was a first year, smart as can be, in Ravenclaw. His name was Patrick; she never did get the last name. She looked into his terrified eyes, streaming with tears. She shouldn't have to do this. The guilt clenched in her chest, but she couldn't blow her cover now. With speed she hoped he could catch she whispered, "I'm sorry."_

_Sorry for the Underground failing him. Sorry he had trusted the wrong people with the crucial message. Sorry they couldn't get to him in time. Sorry he might never be the same again. Sorry that she knew the spell. Sorry that she had to use it. Sorry that he'd lost his faith. Sorry that she couldn't save him. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry._

_"Crucio!"_

She woke up thrashing around, trying to get away from the hands that restrained her. She hit something again and again.

"Ginny." His voice was calm. Her eyes popped open and Harry was holding her wrists. Her head swam as she looked around. She wasn't in her room, where was she? What was going on?

"You're in the living room. Your room was still a mess. You fell asleep out here after dinner."

"Okay," she took a deep breath. "You can let go now."

"Right." He released his hold but kept his fingers lightly holding onto hers'. She looked down at their hands, still trying to get a grip on herself. The dungeon, his tears, her steady hand, they all continued to flash in front of her vision. "Nightmare?"

"Flashback." She tore her eyes away from their still entwined fingers. She didn't deserve this kind of attention. She looked at the fireplace instead, his terrified screams entered her mind and she closed her eyes.

"Want to…talk about it?" He was very, very hesitant. Harry never liked to talk about feelings, he was a boy, and he had far too many to be sympathetic to anyone. It usually ended up going the other way once he started trying to make comparisons to his own life.

"No." She kept her eyes closed, seeing his flash of relief would have made it worse. She didn't need to talk about her shame. She should have just given herself up, saved the first year. Neville would have figured something out. They'd had the coins at that point. She could have snuck into the tunnels before dinner. She hung her head with shame. She wondered if she ever would find out what happened to Patrick. The one black mark on her soul; her only mistake amidst a war.

His fingers slowly let go, and then he sat down next to her on the couch. She let her head fall back onto the cushion and opened her eyes. It had to be two in the morning again; the room was dark except for a single lamp.

"So I thought I could help you clean up your room tomorrow. Ron and Hermione are going to spend the day at her parent's house. Unless you don't want me to." The anxiety of a 'no' was apparent in his voice. She smiled internally at herself, like anyone had ever turned Harry down.

"I could use some help, seeing as how I still don't have a wand." She sat up and looked over at him. "Unless of course you were intending on not using magic."

"Then what?" His eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Then I'd have to tackle Ron on his way out the door for his wand." She gave him a tiny smile.

"I don't think you could." Harry laughed.

"And why not?" She felt a smile cross her lips again.

"Too thin." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"You keep saying that," she pulled her feet up and settled deeper into the couch.

"Because it's true." He grabbed the blanket that had been tossed to the floor during her flashback and laid it over her. "What was your flashback about?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Harry." He just raised an eyebrow and detailed the response with his eyes. She looked away, annoyed.

"What's wrong with Hermione?" She knew he wouldn't answer. He was far too loyal to speak the truth.

"I can't talk about that, Ginny." Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow and look him over. But he wasn't annoyed, only happy. He was always so happy. She didn't dare ask why. A happy Harry was rare, and she would not be the one to send him back into a brooding, emotional wreck. She wondered how long he had been this happy, maybe since the end of the war? Being ill for so long she hadn't been able to keep tabs.

"You seem happy." She felt the blanket warm up in her lap. She smoothed the yellow across her legs.

"I am." He smiled at her. "You seem better."

"For the moment, I am." She let the warm blanket smooth out the last flashes of guilt in her stomach. The crickets were filling the room with soft white noise; the fairies were sparkling in the trees in her yard. A large moon lit up the grass and orchard around her home. If you listened close enough you could hear the frogs in the pond. It was so peaceful, so quiet, so relaxing. She was disappointed in herself for not realizing this sooner. The hospital might have been silent, but it was far from peaceful. She had forgotten how much she had missed her home.

"Well," Harry stood up and moved around to the back of the couch. "I'll leave you alone."

"You don't have to." She looked up at him. His eyes burned with something very strong, and he swallowed hard, still burning a hole into her with his intensity.

"I'm actually tired tonight. I'll see you tomorrow." He hesitated for a moment, and then leaned down to lightly touch his lips to the crown of her head. She froze, and heard him sigh. "Goodnight Ginny."

Frozen in shock, she watched him take the stairs. Maybe he was happy for a reason. Maybe it was a reason that had nothing to do with the end of the war. Her hairline was smoldering from where his lips had touched. She didn't dare think it; it would be too crushing a blow if she was wrong. She pulled the blanket up around herself and snuggled into the couch, hoping, for once, that she would have happy dreams.

* * *

~*~

Author's Note:

Once again, to my amazing friends, thank you so much for all your help and encouragement.


	4. Chapter 4

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 4~

_You ask for walls, I'll build them higher_

_We'll lie in shadows of them all_

_I'd stand, but they're much too tall_

_And I fall_

_February Stars by Foo Fighters_

_

* * *

~*~  
_

"It's embedded in the wall!" Harry's awestruck voice reached her from across the room. "How did you not get hurt?"

"Out of the blast range, I guess." She answered and dropped to her knees. There were wood fragments covering every single inch.

"The frame looks like it caught fire at one point." His voice took a disgruntled tone.

"I do remember smoke."

"I'll need to talk to her about _intention_ when it comes to her spell work." He grumbled. "Not like she's breaking someone out of jail, again."

"When did she do that?" Ginny looked up from the floor.

"Never mind," He quickly shot off. With a swish of his wand the pieces of chair and door started swirling into a vortex in the middle of her room. The shards flew from every crevice; it started to create a small wind as the debris grew larger. With a quick glance at her Harry nodded and with another swish the carnage fell to the floor in a neat pile.

"What happened in here?"

The two flew around to the sound of the voice,

"Neville!" Ginny smiled at him and beckoned him inside.

"Harry," he gave him a nod. "Ginny, you look much better."

She couldn't look at him while she admitted, "I feel a little better."

She choose instead to fix her attention to the leftover carnage. In the center of the large pile of what her chair and door used to be was a single flat piece of wood. It was white on one side, brown on the other with the slightest smudge of black where the wood had temporarily caught fire. Harry and Neville had fallen silent in her examination, watching her every move. She picked the piece out of the pile and held it in the palm of her hand and looked back up at them.

"Alright, Ginny?" Harry gave her a wary glance.

"Just want a little reminder before you get rid of all this." She put the piece in her pocket and gave the pile one last look. This would be it; it would be a tangible step toward recovery, toward becoming normal again, toward starting over.

"Ready?" He was holding his wand out from his body, his eyes were serious, but his face was smiling. Neville looked back and forth between them before crossing his arms over his chest and gave the pile a nod.

"Let's do it." She reached back into her pocket and squeezed the piece into her palm, feeling the wood hold strong in her grip.

"Evanesco," with a swish and a small breeze the entire pile disappeared before her eyes. Harry pocketed his wand, and then turned around to leave.

"Where are you going?" She asked his retreating form. He paused in the mangled doorway,

"I'll leave you two alone." His tone was so serious she felt a bubble of laugh try to escape from her mouth. Why would he be so serious about Neville?

"You can stay if you'd like. Right Neville?" She turned to Neville, who had a peculiar look on his face. There was a tiny smile on the corner of his mouth, but his face was sheet white serious.

"Of course, Harry, stay." He dropped his hands and made a sweeping motion for him to come back.

"It's alright," he shrugged and took off down the stairs before they could get in another word.

"That was strange." Ginny observed, still looking at the hole. She sat down on her bed and gave Neville her full attention. He was still looking quite serious, but at the same time amused by something. He looked almost the same as when they were in the Underground. All his battle scars had healed, and now he was tall and lean, not muscular like Harry and her brothers. But he looked like he could hold his own in a fight. He shrugged his shoulders and sat down on the bed, next to her. He made sure to put space between them.

"So guess who won the contest at the Three Broomsticks?"

"That butterbeer one?" She folded her legs and turned toward him, her back to the windows, now open and breezy.

"Yeah, Hannah Abbott! Can you believe it?" He laughed, really laughed. It was infectious; she felt a giggle escape her mouth.

"I didn't know she had it in her!"

"Well she looked like she had been practicing. Everyone was trying to drink them as fast as they could, but she took her time. By the time contestants started dropping out and barfing everywhere she was still calmly sipping her butterbeer. It was a sight to see." He laughed again. She tried to picture it, Hannah with her long blonde hair, daintily sipping bottle after bottle of butterbeer.

"She should be a barmaid, like Madame Rosmerta."

"Maybe, I didn't really have a chance to talk much with her."

"I bet George could drink her under the table."

"No competition there." Neville laughed.

"So how are your roses doing?" Ginny settled back into the pillows on her bed. She hadn't had a chat with Neville for a long time it seemed.

"Very well, my hypothesis worked. They are thriving, and I am starting to see some budding. It will be very interesting to see what color they will be."

"Wouldn't they be red?" She had always envisioned them as red.

"No," he smiled a little. "They actually take on the color of the intention of your planting. You never plant Weeping Roses without an intention. Either for medical reasons, or just for someone in particular."

"So what was your intention?" She leaned forward, now interested. She wondered if she had fallen asleep on this day in Herbology, how could they not have learned about something so amazing.

"Harry, actually." He let out a nervous laugh.

"Why Harry?"

"He still has burns on his arms, they look like magical ones, so it will take a long time for them to heal. So the roses will either be black or green."

"Strange," she couldn't stop the level of awe that escaped with her thought. Black roses would be easy enough, but she didn't think any magic could match the varying green of Harry's eyes.

"We'll find out in a few weeks. I'm hoping for green, actually. I've never seen green roses before." He leaned up against the wall.

"No, they should be black." Ginny nodded to herself. Neville let out a laugh and she looked over at him, confused. "What?"

"Only you would say that, Ginny." He crossed his arms above his head and let out another laugh.

"Why?"

"You tell me why you want them to be black, and you'll have your answer. Only you would…" He smiled quite large, and looked over at her. She felt herself blush and gave him a disgruntled look.

"I'm sure I'm not the only girl in all of the Wizarding community that can appreciate the color of Harry's eyes." She couldn't help the blush that continued to crawl up her neck.

"True. True." He let it drop. "I ran into Kingsley Shacklebolt at the butterbeer contest."

"I'm surprised he had the time." She let out a frustrated breath. The blush was making her sweat; she tried to mentally will it away.

"I think he was there for a reason." Neville's voice dropped to a low whisper.

"What?"

"Recruitment. They are dangerously low on Auror's. He was asking me what I was up to these days." Neville looked at her for a long moment and then shifted his eyes to the door. "He also wanted to know what 'the three' were up to as well."

"He actually called them 'the three'?" Ginny leaned forward onto her knees.

"That's what you're surprised about?" Neville shifted his eyes to the gaping hole of door.

"Are you kidding Neville? My parent's fight about it nightly, especially when it comes to Harry." She pulled her hair back out of her face. "Everyone always thinks I can't hear them."

Neville's eyes shifted to the door again and were not disappointed. Harry had materialized into the smoldered space.

"What did you tell him?" His voice was low, his eyes were brooding, his arms were crossed. The happy Harry was long gone.

"That I didn't see you that often, and that you were enjoying your time off." Neville moved to the edge of the bed.

"Anything else?" He meant to lean against the doorframe, but it wasn't there anymore. So, instead, he widened his stance and continued to glare into the room.

"What else is there to say, Harry? It's the truth, isn't it? When each of you is ready I'm sure you'll make your own decisions as to what you'd like to contribute to the rebuilding." Neville stood.

"What about your decision?" Harry dropped his arms, seeming to be satisfied with his answer.

"I told him I was doing fine with my Herbology experiments, and that I wasn't interested in fighting again. At least not right now. Maybe a little while from now. He seemed satisfied with my answer, but I know they are hurting for Auror's. I almost feel like it's my obligation to join up." Neville ran his hands down the top of his shorts and looked down at the floor.

"It's not an obligation." Harry moved out of the doorway, and was down the stairs in a blink.

"That was odd." Ginny looked from the doorjamb and back to Neville. "I don't know if I appreciate being eavesdropped on, but it was still odd."

"It's only out of concern." Neville looked at the doorway, his hands now balled up on the top of his pants.

"It's still rude." She made sure her voice was a little below a shout, she might still be sick, but she wasn't stupid.

"You haven't noticed yet, have you?" Neville was laughing again. He shifted his weight and shoved a fist into one of his pockets.

"Noticed what?"

"Nothing. I brought this for you." He leaned toward her and opened up his fist. In his palm was the Dumbledore's Army coin she thought she had lost. "I found it, one night. By the time I remembered to give it back to you were already gone."

He gently placed it on the bed next to her. She looked at it for a long moment before picking it up. The familiar weight was comforting to her. She had spent months holding onto the coin, anytime she was in trouble, anytime they were about to smuggle someone out, anytime something horrible was happening in the castle. It's weight had been a constant reminder that she had obligations, she had motive, and she had reason to continue through the fatigue, and the pain, and the fear.

"Thank you." It was all she could manage as her past and present pain mingled together in a bittersweet swell of sorrow in her chest.

"Goodman."

"Patrick Goodman." She rolled it over her tongue, the sorrow quickly turning into tears.

"I looked him up. When you were in the hospital. He's fine, Ginny. He was lucky that you were picked that day. You were able to control your intention so well that it was only half power. It looked worse then it was. He said he was grateful, he was able to go home after that, he didn't have to endure the months after."

"Patrick Goodman." She let the tears roll down her face.

"They're leaving. Moving to France. His parents have had enough. I think they're gone by now. He wanted me to thank you. He wanted you to know that he will always think of you, and how you saved him that day."

"I didn't save him," her voice was thick with tears and emotion. Neville sat and quickly put an arm over her shoulders.

"But you did. You got him out of Hogwarts. It might not have been in the way we had intended, but he was able to escape." He squeezed her shoulders tight. It reminded her of all the nights that she had felt defeat at their current situation. She would never vocalize it, but Neville would see it on her face, and every time would give her a quick squeeze.

"I should have used the coin." She clenched it in her fist, it started to warm up.

"And I should have had Luna stash him in the Hufflepuff common room, but I thought they would have made it to the Room of Requirements. We all made mistakes." He squeezed her again.

"Yeah, but yours wasn't unforgivable." She felt the coin heat up in her palm, starting to burn.

"You are forgiven, even if you don't believe it yourself." He let go and stood. "I thought you'd want it back. I debated giving it to you in the hospital, but you were still too sick."

"Thanks," she stood and shuffled toward him. With a moment of hesitation she slung her arms around his chest and gave him a light hug. "I thought I'd lost it."

"Well," he tightened his arms around her. "If anyone could find something that is missing it would be me."

She laughed into his chest and let go. She dropped the coin into her pocket, next to her piece of wood. She felt an odd feeling of contentment from the tight hug that Neville had given her. It would appear that the door had made her touchable again.

"I'll let you get back to it." He pulled out his wand.

"We weren't doing anything." Ginny looked up at him, and that peculiar smile was across his face again.

"At any rate, I need to check on the roses. I'll let you know how black they are." He teased.

"Now they'll be green for sure." She gave him an annoyed look. With a smile and a pop he was gone. She grabbed the wood and coin out of her pocket and placed them on her desk. With the weight of her past off her body she fell onto her bed. She ran the name over and over again in her mind, Patrick Goodman, Patrick Goodman. She closed her eyes and tried to remember. Just as she was about to visualize how the pieces of his face fit together, in a grimace of pain and fear, she felt the blanket fall over her body.

"I'm not asleep." She knew she sounded annoyed, but she couldn't help it. She was starting to feel a little smothered. She cracked open an eye and Harry just shrugged and moved back toward the door. "Stay."

He paused, and then moved back to her bed. She sat up, her hair spilling all over her face. With a huff she had it all pushed back again, and then patted the bed next to her. With slight hesitation Harry sat down, making sure there was a lot of space between them. She pulled the blanket off, and balled it up onto a corner of the bed.

"So who's Patrick Goodman?" His voice was calm and even. She knew why he had said it that way because the anger instantly flared in her chest.

"None of your business, that's who." She crossed her arms and turned away from him. A flash of panic filled her at the idea of him leaving because of her anger, but he hadn't moved, so she tampered it down, trying to stay angry.

"Hermione's parents don't understand what she went through." He almost whispered it. "It's making it very difficult for her to…move on with her life. She wants to keep her Muggle life and her Wizard life together, like she used to be able to, but it's getting very difficult."

"How can they not understand?" She turned toward him, amazed at the callousness of Hermione's parents.

"They don't really understand what being a witch is all about. They didn't know the extent of how involved she was with Ron and I. And they didn't understand the amount of danger she was in." He looked down at his hands, ashamed.

"But…but…how could they not?" She sputtered. She wished he would have looked up at her, she could have read some much more from his eyes.

"She spent most of her breaks either here or at Hogwarts. She had grown apart from them, and they never really took an interest…I guess. They understood she was top of her class, but I think that was as far as it went." He played with a hole in his jeans, still refusing to meet her eyes.

"I can't believe it. I just can't believe it." She looked out her window and shook her head with disgust. It was hard enough having everyone understand all too well, it would be crushing to have someone not be able to sympathize at all.

"You sound like Ron. That's why he's there today." His voice was back at normal pitch. She looked at him and was met by crushing green agony. A shiver ran down her spine. "It's my fault, you know. Maybe she would have been better off if she'd never met me."

"Oh don't be stupid." She shot off, unable to look away. "Hermione would have found that comment insulting." She felt honesty escape her tightly guarded emotions, and suddenly it all bubbled up to the surface. "Patrick Goodman was a first year in Ravenclaw." She could never tell him no, she could never lie to him, and now it seemed she couldn't keep anything from him as well.

"What happened?" He still hadn't looked away. She took a deep breath, smelling the lavender soap coming off him in waves.

"I had to use an Unforgivable on him." She knew that was all she needed to say.

Harry never needed back story, just the facts. He nodded and leaned toward her.

"I'm sure you had no other choice."

"There's always another choice." She felt herself moving closer as well.

"I'm sure you made the right one." He was inches away now. She felt his breath fall across her face.

"Maybe." She held her breath in her chest. He reached across the gap and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. It burned from his touch. She felt the blush start in her cheeks.

"I know you did, Ginny." His hand lingered for a moment and then he dropped it to the bed. It hit her own and they both looked down.

"Anyone here? I brought food!" George yelled from downstairs. Harry let out an exasperated breath, and then pressed his lips tight. With a slight push he was quickly off the bed, and Ginny realized she had been holding her breath.

"I know you're not hungry." He smiled down at her and extended a hand to help her up. "But humor me."

"Alright, Harry." She smiled up at him and grabbed his hand. A jolt of electricity shot through her arm and she stared at their hands for a moment before he gave her a gentle tug. She threaded her fingers with his and held on long after she was on her feet. Harry gave her a look, and then led them out of the room.

"There you two are." George threw a biscuit at Harry and noticed their still entwined hands. She felt Harry's hand slacken in her own, but she continued to squeeze his. Her brother raised an eyebrow at her, and she stuck out her tongue. George let out a bark of laughter and rolled his eyes. "Tuck in."

* * *

~*~

The owl fluttered through her window the next morning. It landed with grace upon her chair-less desk and stuck out its light brown leg.

"Well, hello." Ginny walked up to the white speckled bird and took the small piece of parchment off its leg. Scribbled down were two words, _Emerald Green_.

She couldn't help the laugh. At first it was a nervous one, not quite knowing if she should be laughing about the color of Weeping Roses, and then it turned into a slight giggle at the absurdity of it all. Now she knew she'd have to see these roses. She had predicted their color, and knew almost as much about them as Neville.

The thought of leaving the house made the laughter stop and a slight unease filled her chest. She wasn't quite ready for that. She set the scrap of paper with her wood and coin and watched the bird take off into the afternoon sun. She had been left alone for most of the day. Ron and Hermione were back at her parent's house, her brothers were all working, her mother was out stocking up the house with potions, and Harry. Well Harry was staying out of her hair. Not that she wanted him to.

George had hung around until late last night, claiming that he needed to test out the sheer will and wit of his new employee. If she could handle a night alone she could handle working at the store when Hogwarts was back in session. She had thought it was a stupid idea and George's absence this morning told her the assumption had been correct. The poor girl had probably run from the store, screaming. George did need some help, but he was being particularly picky. In the back of her mind she knew why, it was a family business, and should be run by family. But with Bill, Charlie, and Percy all with their own careers that only left Ron and herself. No one was going to ask for her help, and her father had made it clear that Ron needed time off to 'recover'. George was all alone.

Her stomach clenched at the thought. Of course George was all alone. She held onto the desk and hung her head, the pain started to radiate up into her lungs and she tried to take a deep breath. She was proud of the fact that she hadn't fallen to the floor in a quivering ball of tears, but at the same time the panic was starting to pulse through her. She saw her knuckles turn white as her grip tightened on the desk.

Fred.

Her mind flashed her laughing, smiling, happy brother across her blinded eyes: his wild hair, his lanky build, his swagger around the house. The vision soon turned into a horrific movie in her brain: her brother running around in the back yard with her, picking her again and again for his pick up Quidditch team, giving her a giant hug in the Hogwarts infirmary. She vaguely registered the pain in her knees as she hit the floor in her room, her fingers now wrapping around her tiny waist.

Fred.

His boots hanging slightly out, gravel and castle dust covering the worn shine. His body, so still, she'd never seen him that still before. Never. He could only be that still in…

She felt his hand gently touch her back; it made a shaking sob break out from her chest. Turning toward him she grabbed his arm and pulled herself up from the floor, and blindly stumbled toward her bed. He let go and she felt her soft bed and curled up into the ball she had grown so familiar with. The numbness of shock was wearing off and she felt the wet tears still streaming down her face. She wasn't screaming, but she was sobbing. He'd sat down next to her, on the bed, and was rubbing her back.

All that filled her mind was the peaceful, happy look on his face. It was smeared with dirt and grime, sweat lines down from his temples, and ghost white. How could he look so happy? His hair had almost looked orange because of the ghostly contrast of his skin.

Her mind flashed the one time she had looked at herself in the mirror since coming home. She was disgusted at the stranger looking back. Orange stringy hair, painfully thin and frail looking, with skin so white it was almost translucent. She was the ghost; Fred had been able to move on. She felt tears of anger splash down with the pain of his name.

Harry's hand stopped rubbing her back and she felt him shift on the bed. For a split second she feared he was getting up to leave, unable to stand her tears. She peeled an arm from around her waist and flung it out to stop him. If he was leaving or going to get her medication she had to stop him. She didn't want either. She needed to feel someone next to her, body heat, human comfort. She had been alone for too long, she realized. She had turned herself into a ghost.

With more effort then she realized it would take she clawed across the bed to get closer to him, still blinded by tears. Harry grabbed her up underneath an arm and pulled her against him. With one strong arm around her waist, and another pushing the mess of sickly orange hair off her face she sobbed into his shoulder. He shifted a little toward her and she tried to contain her tears.

He let out a frustrated kind of huff and tucked some hair behind her ear again, his hand running down the length of her hair. It shot her back to happier times, the brief moment in time when he was allowed to touch her that way. He was always sneaking touches of her hair then, she'd pretended she hadn't noticed at the time. The memory filled her chest with such a bittersweet longing that another sob broke through the little control she had. His hand froze and he shifted again.

"Stay," she forced out in a thick voice. The tears starting immediately after the word escaped.

"Whatever you want, Ginny."

He continued to comb through her hair with his fingers until the exhaustion of the break down fogged her mind and she let herself fall asleep on his shoulder.

* * *

~*~

"Dinner should be ready in about an hour. You must be hungry." Her mother's voice filled her room in a low tone.

"Sounds delicious." Harry whispered.

"Are you alright? Do you need anything?"

"Just fine. We'll be down soon." He whispered again and she could feel the vibration in his chest. Her mother left the room and she quieted her breathing to hear his strong heartbeat. It had been the sound that kept her asleep for so long. It methodically thumped away in his chest, steady and calm. His hand ran down her hair again and she took a deep breath. Now it was about to get awkward.

"'Mione? Have you seen my jacket?"

"It's in the living room, Ron." Hermione had yelled out from another room. Her mother was starting to bang away in the kitchen, adding to the growing noise.

"How do you know these things?" Ron had yelled back. Harry silently laughed to himself at their banter. She pressed harder against his shoulder, trying to focus only on the sound of his heartbeat, needing the few more minutes of quiet before her family would be unleashed upon her again. The slight movements made her realize how stiff she was.

Somehow she had curled herself around Harry while they were both sitting on her bed. Her left arm was draped across her stomach, her head buried in his damp shoulder, her body pressed against the side of his, and her legs slung over one of his legs. The one arm that had been holding her so tight was now limp across the bed, but the other continued to play with her hair.

"Are you awake?" He whispered. She nodded against his chest. She took a final moment to listen to the steady beating before she sighed and untangled herself. It took a few blinks before her eyes could focus; they were still swollen from all the tears. She rolled off of him and moved to the edge of the bed. She looked to her left and Harry was nursing his right arm. He grimaced as he forced the fingers to move.

"What's wrong?"

"Arm fell asleep." He continued to massage and manipulate his fingers.

"Sorry."

"It's fine." He smiled at her, and then frowned as two sets of feet stomped up the stairs. The quieted as they reached her hole of a door. Ron and Hermione shuffled into the room and stood in front of them.

"Good, she's awake. What in bloody hell is this?" Ron shoved his hand out in front of Harry, some strange object in his hand. "Hermione wouldn't stop laughing, so I still don't know."

"That's a pager." Harry continued to work on his dead arm and gave Hermione a disapproving look.

"What's a pager?" Ron held it between his thumb and pointer finger. She took a good look at the hunk of gray plastic.

"It's a communication device, in the Muggle world."

"What does it communicate?" Ron held it in front of his face and gave it a puzzled look.

"Not much, that's why people don't really use them anymore." Harry was pumping his fist and winced a little at the action. She must have really killed his arm as she slept. He had been working on it far too long for just a limb that had fallen asleep.

"My father gave it to Ron. They have their cell phones now, they don't need pagers anymore." Hermione snagged the pager out of his fingers and clipped it to her shorts.

"Wait there's a clip on it? What did they even use it for? Is it because they are doctors?" He snagged a loop on Hermione's pants and pulled her to him to grab the pager back. Harry rolled his eyes, still pumping his fist. Ginny felt a little nauseous at their happiness.

"You sound like Dad." It had come out more bitter then amused. Ron and Hermione turned to look at her for the first time since entering her room.

"You don't look so good." Ron let go of Hermione and gave her a critical glance.

"Obviously." She stood, her head swimming for a moment with the action. Hermione shot out a hand, about to steady her, but she waved it off. She pushed past the three and made her way to the bathroom.

"Good job, Ron." Harry growled at him.

"What's wrong with your arm?" Ron countered back.

"It's asleep."

"Right." Ron sounded quite unconvinced.

"Ron, leave him alone." Hermione ordered. "She's getting better, he's doing something right."

She slammed the bathroom door behind her; sometimes being home was worse then the hospital. Someone stomped past the bathroom up the stairs.

"He's grumpy." Ron's voice crossed the door.

"What did I say this time?" Hermione was the next exasperated voice to pass; she turned on the water to drown out the conversations downstairs that were soon to follow.

Sometimes she felt like the only person in Wizarding London that was taking a scorching shower in the middle of summer. She washed her hair, trying to will it back to red. Once the steaming heat of the water started to turn cold she grabbed her cold towel. She needed to talk to Harry again about the wand. Maybe he would give in this time. She could already hear everyone in the dining room when she crossed the hall. She still wasn't hungry, but she had only had some toast. An uneasy anger filled her chest. She wasn't quite sure what she was so angry at but she took it out on her wardrobe. Tossing clothes on the floor, roughly pushing hangers aside, and finally ripping a shirt in her rage. She decided on the only pair of jeans she owned that had been fixed to fit her, and a purple tank top. Her wet hair hit her back and she let out an angry huff, she'd need a jacket as well. She found her Chaser warm up from Hogwarts and pulled it on. Now her hair would look even more orange…wonderful.

She ripped a brush through her still dripping tresses and stomped downstairs. Her hair would have been dry if she'd had a wand, her towel would have been warm if she'd had a wand, she wouldn't have to pick through her old clothes if she'd had a wand, she could make everything fit correctly if she had a wand. In all her silent fuming she found herself suddenly standing in front of the entire now silent room. She looked from Ron and Hermione to her parents, and lastly on Harry. Taking a deep breath she leveled her eyes at her Mum and Dad.

"I want my wand." She growled. "Now."

"Ginny, don't be rude." Her father tried to pipe in, but his voice was just as confused as her mother looked.

"I'm not being rude. It's mine, and I want it back." She continued to stare at them.

"Gin, you think you're…" Ron started. She snapped her head to him and fixed him with a glare,

"Stay out of this. It has nothing to do with you."

"Yes it does. I'm your brother." He glared back at her.

"But you don't have my wand, they do." She shook her outstretched hand in a demanding way. Hermione's fork hit her plate with a loud clatter, but she could still feel all eyes on her.

"You might not be able to do magic, Ginny." Hermione's voice was the slightest bit hesitant. "It's very common after a situation like yours. We were only keeping it until you were well enough."

"I'm sick of cold towels and wet hair. I'm sure it will come back." She clenched her fist for a moment and continued to hold out her hand.

"Maybe you should just wait a little longer." Harry offered, flexing his hand again under the table. She shook her head. One moment of grief did not require her to have to suffer through everything like a Muggle. If she was well enough to be home she was well enough to have her wand back.

"I want it back." She took an expectant breath. "Please."

Her Mum looked over at her Dad, they seemed to have a silent conversation, and then her Dad leaned forward and pulled her wand out from pocket and held it out to his side. She quickly moved past Harry and around an empty chair to grab it from his hand. She felt a flood of victory fill her chest and suppressed the smile that threatened to pass her lips. Her family was still staring in shock at her. She quickly grabbed a roll from the table and moved toward the stairs. Ron looked disgruntled; Hermione continued to look hesitant about the decision, her Dad had started in on his dinner, her Mum looked angry which was to be expected, but Harry looked…she paused and took a longer look at him, was conflicted the word? He looked troubled by this exchange. She pocketed her wand and started up the stairs,

"Goodnight everyone."

A flutter of panic crossed her chest; maybe she had overstepped an unseen line tonight. There seemed to be so many unspoken and unmentioned lines between her and Harry. She stood in the center of her room with her wand in hand. She meant to go downstairs, and do something to set it right, but a vaguely familiar feeling filled her. She recognized it, pride. It was both powerful and resentful. The feeling of power swallowed any resentment she had. She had gotten her way. She had demanded something and it was given to her, and now there was no way she could go back, it would be admitting defeat.

She stood in the center of her dark room, deciding. Her wand moved in the complicated motion she had learned so many years ago and the hot air charm instantly dried all the water from her hair leaving it warm and soft. She let out a sigh and sat down on her bed. With another flick of her wrist she'd turned the lights on in her room. Any anxiety she'd had about Hermione's comment disappeared. She tapped her jacket and it shrank down to fit to her body.

She bit off a piece of roll, but there was still no taste. She finished it off before waving her wand from across the room to clean up her destroyed closet. She'd run out of things to do when her someone appeared at her destroyed doorway. Her mother gave her a disapproving look.

"If you're well enough for your wand, you can go do the dishes. And you can denomb the garden tomorrow for being so rude to me and your father. That was uncalled for Ginevra, and I don't ever want to hear that kind of disrespect out of you again. Do you understand?" She crossed her arms across her chest and shook her head with disappointment.

"Yes, Mum." She hung her head with shame and stood to follow her out the door.

"And you will start having dinner with us every night."

"Yes, Mum." Ginny winced. She silently followed her mother to the kitchen and didn't make a single noise at the mountain of dishes in front of her. She'd picked the wrong night to feel better.

"You will finish all these dishes, and then you will put them all away. I also need you to peel the potatoes before dinner tomorrow."

Her mother turned on her heel and left her in the kitchen. She turned the water on and grabbed the first plate,

"Scourgify." She half-heartily demanded from her wand. It sparked blue, but the plate remained dirty. With a deep breath of concentration she tried again, "Scourgify!"

The blue sparks mocked her. Of course, when it really mattered, she couldn't do magic. She shoved the wand into the back pocket of her jeans, pushed up the sleeves on her sweatshirt and grabbed the sponge. Everyone had gone upstairs, she could hear them walking around, so she would be doing her atonement alone.

Halfway through the pots and pan she hung onto the sink, exhausted. Her hands were raw from all the soap and water, she'd broken a few nails manipulating the pans, and the hotness of the water had caused her to peel off her sweatshirt. She felt like she had been at it for hours.

"Do you want some help?" Hermione's voice made her jump, water splashed all over her purple tank top.

"It's okay, I deserve it." She turned back to the pot and started scrubbing again.

"I don't mind." She moved up next to her and started drying the dishes off, with her wand. Ginny clenched her teeth so she wouldn't roll her eyes. The last thing she needed was to be rude again.

"Thanks." She pushed through her teeth. She started viciously scrubbing the pan again.

"Did your Mum tell you to do them by hand?" She was finishing up with the last wet dishes. A surge of jealousy made her bite her tongue, she shook her head. "It will all come back, Ginny. Don't worry. Why don't we switch, I don't know where all the dishes go."

"Thanks, Hermione." She gratefully wiped her wet hands all over her jeans. Hermione wordlessly cleaned the rest of the pots and levitated them over to the drying rack before she could put away all the clean dishes.

"You've been doing dishes for two hours. Harry was starting to get worried."

"Not Ron, though." She reached onto her tiptoes and shoved a pot into place.

"He thinks you deserve it."

"Like a brother would."

"He thinks it will be good for you. He said we've been smothering you; all you needed was to be reprimanded. I told him he was stupid." Hermione laughed.

"Well he's partly right." She grabbed a towel and started drying off the newly washed pots. Hermione leaned against the sink and gave her a small smile.

"No one likes to be coddled, Ginny. Especially someone with such a strong personality like yours."

"I haven't been strong, lately." She finished drying the pots.

"No one can be strong all the time." She grabbed the towel from her hands and placed it over the sink to dry. "It's normal to need some help. I'm glad you're getting better. I was shocked to see a flash of the old Ginny at the table tonight."

"Shock is one word for it." She turned her back to Hermione to finish putting the dishes away. What would have taken another two hours Hermione had finished in five minutes.

"No," she waited until Ginny looked at her again. "Shocked is the right word. Everyone was shocked. But a happy shock."

"Harry seemed a little more then shocked." She crossed her arms across her damp tank top and looked at the floor.

"I don't think it was as bad as it seemed." Hermione waved it off and put a cool hand on her bare shoulder. "Want to play some exploding snap? The boys are playing chess and I have no interest in that."

"Because Ron always wins?" Ginny smiled at her.

"Maybe," a mischievous smile crossed her face and she moved toward the dining room. "I've been practicing, but I don't want Ron to know that, so I'll let him annoy Harry for a while." Hermione laughed and conjured a deck of cards. She pulled the chair out and Ginny sat down opposite to her, thankful that the dishes were done, and grateful that Hermione was her friend.

* * *

~*~

"Ready, love?" Ron was hanging on the staircase railing, giving Hermione the once over. Ginny watched the slightest blush cross Hermione's cheeks.

"Just a minute." With a nod he jogged back up the stairs. "This was fun, Ginny. We should do it more often."

"The dishes or the exploding snap?" Ginny joked and cleaned up the cards. "Is Ron taking you home?"

"He just wants to make sure I get there safe." She swished her wand and the cards disappeared.

"I'm sure," Ginny giggled. "Of all the witches in the world he wants to make sure _you'll_ be safe. I think McGonnagal is the only witch better then you Hermione."

"Don't be silly," Hermione leaned back in her chair and fixed Ginny with a large smile.

"Well, I'm happy for you. I always knew he'd find his way. He was just too stupid to realize it was you all along." She smiled back at her, thinking of all the tears she'd watched Hermione shed due to her brother. Her thick skulled brother and his inability to see true love right in front of his face. Their relationship had been effortless once he'd realized he was in love with her. They had only been dating since defeating the Dark Lord, but it seemed like they had been dating since their first year.

"I could say the same for you." Hermione gave her a hesitant look. Now it was her turn to blush, but only dread filled her chest. Even if Harry had been interested in her again she didn't even thing she was worth it right now.

"I don't think so." She dropped her eyes to the table and ran her fingers over the old grooves. "No one wants damaged goods, Hermione."

"How could you say that about yourself?" The anger in her voice caused Ginny to look up. "You are not damaged. There is nothing wrong with you. And don't let anyone tell you any different."

"No ones told me that, I know it." She looked past Hermione's shoulder, unable to stomach the conversation. "Besides, we broke up. He has so many bigger and better things to be doing with his life. He doesn't need to be my babysitter. Maybe now he'll realize that." She took a deep breath to stop her flipping stomach. The truth was more painful then she thought it would be. If he left she'd be all alone, but now that she was getting better she didn't want to hold him back.

"He's not going anywhere, Ginny." Hermione was resolute in that fact. Ginny locked her eyes with her for a moment.

"Maybe he should. What can he do here? Make me toast? Go grocery shopping with my Mum? Harry was always meant for more then this." She swallowed the lump in her throat. Hermione leaned across the table and grabbed her hand, still working the grooves.

"He's already accomplished that. Have you ever thought that maybe this is what he wanted all along? Some cruel twist of fate made it impossible for him to be safe and happy, until right now. He's exactly where he wants to be. He wants to be here, with you." Hermione released her hand and nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"With my family." Ginny corrected. Hermione shook her head, her face turning white as the truth started to bubble through.

"He didn't want me to talk to you about this." She nervously glanced up the stairs. "He asked me not to. Good friend I am."

"What are you saying?" Ginny quashed the flash of hope in her stomach. No use in getting worked up only to be let down.

"You've heard of the Marauder's Map, right?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. She nodded. "Well he took it with him when we went on the run." Hermione glanced back up the stairs. She fixed her hair again, "At first I didn't know why we would need it. But then he only took it out when it was his turn to be the look out."

"Look out for what? I'm not following you." Ginny leaned forward.

"In the tent. When we were looking for the horcruxes."

"Hor-what?" Her voice raised a pitch.

"This is why he wanted to tell you." Hermione stopped herself and looked up the stairs. "Just know that we all took turns in the tent being a look out from Death Eaters that were after us. Can you follow me there?" Her voice took on a whispered hurried edge.

"Yes." She tried to imagine the three of them in her father's magical tent. Then she tried to imagine two of them sleeping and Harry at the front flap, looking at a map. A map of Hogwarts. It dawned on her, her mouth dropped open and she looked up at Hermione with a strange sense of awe.

"It wasn't always at night that we would stop to sleep. At first I thought it was actually Hogwarts that he was watching, although I didn't know why. Then Ron left and he was watching it even more. That's when I realized what he was watching."

"Me." Ginny supplied. She leaned back in her chair, feeling her breath get quick and short in her chest.

"Are you alright? You don't look so good." Hermione pushed back from her chair. Her cold hands fluttered to her face. "You're so sweaty, what's wrong."

Ginny felt her chest heave again and again as the truth washed over her. All his looks, all the blankets, and the Jello, his constant hovering, it all fit together finally in her mind. He wasn't doing it to appease her family; he was doing it for her. He still had feelings for her. All his smiles, he was happy finally because he had what he wanted, a normal life. But it would never be normal, not with her still so sick. And he didn't even care.

"What did you do to her?" Ron's voice filled the dining room. She felt Hermione's hands touch her face again and then grab her shoulders to steady her.

"Nothing. I…I…" She stuttered. "I told her about the map."

"Oh Merlin, Hermione." Hermione's hands left her face and Ron grabbed her under her arms. "Let's get you on the couch before you pass out on us. Go get Harry."

"NO!" She managed and tried to get a grip on herself. She pulled away from her brother. "Give me a second." She leaned down onto her knees and sucked in big shaky breaths.

"Why did you tell her about the map? He asked you not to."

"It just came out."

"Something like that doesn't just come out."

"I'm sorry. I thought she would react differently."

"Different how, exactly?"

"I didn't think she'd pass out!" Hermione shouted.

"Well she's about to! You can't spring something like that on a person!" Ron shouted back. Their fight abruptly stopped when they heard someone moving down the stairs.

"Oh no." Ginny gasped. She tried to get to her feet. Even if she could just get out of the dining room she'd be able to compose herself. She stumbled against the table on her mad dash away from the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Hermione's worried voice followed her flight. She bumped into the couch as she fumbled for the screen door to the patio. The cool summer air hit her damp tank top and shook the heaving from her chest. She shivered and shoved her hands into her jeans. He'd be out here soon enough, Harry missed nothing. She looked up into the night sky, a few clouds still hiding the moon. A sparkle in the grass caught her eye and she looked down to see the emerald green. The tiny piece of parchment caused a groan to escape. Even Neville knew, apparently she was the only one on earth that hadn't known about Harry's feelings.

The happiness she knew she should have felt was marred by anger. She was the last to know. Yet another truth her family refused to talk about. Fred was dead and Harry loved her. She hung her head and fumed in silence. How could she face him now? She felt so ashamed. Being annoyed by his constant assistance, his patients, even discounting all the signs he had been showing her made an ache form in her chest. She had wasted so much time thinking he didn't want her, that he was there out of obligation to her family. She felt another shiver run down her back and groaned again.

Now she had embarrassed herself in the worst way, Ron and Hermione had mistaken her shock. And what was more they had kept this from her since the beginning. It might have been out of respect to Harry's wishes, but at least her brother should have said something, he was her brother. She was getting better, thanks to Harry, and now she knew his feelings, and yet not an ounce of happiness had entered her thoughts. Something was still seriously wrong with her.

"Ginny?"

She couldn't face him, that much she knew. Something in his face at the dinner table told her that he still seemed hesitant about her in general, and yet he was the one that had come out onto the patio after her.

"I'm sorry for being so rude today." She looked out into the trees.

"It's fine. I brought out a jacket, in case you got cold." He hung it over her shoulders.

"You didn't have to do that." She hung her head with shame, he was still being nice to her, and now she knew why. Yet, she still couldn't help but associate his care with obligation, not love.

"I'm going to visit Teddy and Hagrid tomorrow. So I probably won't see you, I'm leaving in the early morning." He still had not moved since placing the jacket over her shoulders.

"Okay. You should get out more. Tell Hagrid I say hi." She shoved her arms through the sleeves, it was swimming on her, a wave of guilt filled her chest, it had to be his.

"Goodnight, Ginny." She felt his hand run through her hair, and then he was gone, his footsteps crunching on the gravel, and finally the screen banging shut behind him. She heard some mummers from inside the house and then two pops as Ron and Hermione left. With a deep breath she focused on every single detail of her room and swished her wand. She checked all her fingers and limbs before being satisfied that she had done it correctly. That's when she noticed the jacket, Gryffindor red and gold, with Captain stitched onto the left side.

She quickly shot a silencing charm at her mangled doorway before she let the tears fall. She didn't deserve him.

* * *

~*~

Author's Note:

I'd just like to take this time to give tremendous thanks to Casca for writing Seeking Ginny. I know it sounds strange but her epic, fabulous, story made me want to explore a Harry/ Ginny angsty relationship on my own. So this story is here because of her, and for that I am extremely grateful.


	5. Chapter 5

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 5~

_If you go, if you go_

_Leave me down here on my own_

_Then I'll wait for you, yeah. _

_In My Place by Coldplay_

* * *

~*~

"Oi, you. Where's Harry at?"

She shielded her eyes and looked up into the high afternoon sun at her obnoxious brother.

"Why are you asking me?" She wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead before looking back down at the over-run garden. Her mother always knew how to create the worst punishment. It was almost like she had them planned ahead of time, just waiting for one of them to act up. She wasn't usually a victim of her planning, but on several occasion's she'd heard her brother cursing their dear mother up and down as they were forced to do these horrible tasks. Today was no different; it was like she put the little buggers in the garden while she slept.

"Thought you'd know, that's all." He crossed his arms defensively. "If he shows up have him find me."

"As you wish," she gave him a mocking bow on her knees, the loose tendrils of hair falling into the cabbage and strawberries.

"Don't give me that." He grumbled and then stalked off. She let out a grumble of indignation herself and looked back down at the garden as another one ran off. She had been at it all morning; her mother had made sure of that. At seven o'clock she'd burst through her hole and pulled the covers from her body,

"Rise and shine, you have work to do."

She'd left the room quickly after that, but not without opening all the windows. She'd lain in her bed, both freezing and fuming for a full ten minutes before she was able to drag herself away. She hadn't slept at all. She had stared at her hole all night long, willing either Harry to come into her room, or her courage to come back so she could leave it. Neither happened, which left her watching the sun rise in the sky before she finally gave into exhaustion. Now she had a full day ahead of her, and all of it would be done without Harry. Just as she'd finally started to fall asleep she'd heard him softly go down the stairs and out the front door.

"Why must," she poised her wand as if it were a dagger and shot off the spell at the minion of evil, "you be so difficult?"

She tossed it as far as she could and set her sights back onto the garden. She had been sweating for hours in the hot sun, she knew she was getting dehydrated, and when working with a particularly stubborn bugger she'd seen large black spots across her vision. She'd taken a break then, but she was almost done, and she still had a bag of potatoes to peel.

Her nice soft bed, and warm yellow blanket beckoned to her. All she wanted now was a cold shower and to sleep forever. Maybe this was exactly what she needed; there would be no insomnia tonight. But she hated the fact that it was so taxing and time consuming. She spotted the final garden gnome and poised to strike, with a swift flourish she had him in the air above her, and she sighed with relief. She tossed him over the fence and pushed herself off the damp garden. She was covered in bits of vegetation and a light dusting of dirt. Not to mention the streaks of sweat that had painted her dirty skin as she slaved away. She stumbled into the house to find her mother knitting in the armchair.

"Oh good, you're done. Go wash up, I made you some lunch."

"Yes, Mum." She knew better then to be insubordinate now, she would keep her mouth shut and her head down. Her tired, broken body could not take another 48 hours of this. She had cuts and scrapes on top of the raw hands the dishes had given her last night. She let the cool water numb them up before drying them off and moving to the dinner table. At least her mother wasn't cruel. Some sandwiches, a large glass of pumpkin juice, and a big bowl of fruit were waiting for her. She started shoving the food into her mouth without thinking. She had a small hint of flavor, but her grumbling stomach would not let her stop until everything was gone.

"Your father said your appetite would come back on its own. But I knew all you needed was some exercise. It makes everyone hungry. Do you want any more?" She gave her a warm smile.

"No thank you. I'm full." Painfully full, but she didn't want to add that in. Her stomach threatened to throw up the excess food, not ready to expand to fit a whole meal.

"Well you better get to work on that bag of potatoes. I have a lot of cooking to do tonight. Bill and Fleur are coming over again, and Charlie will be here. I'd expect Hermione as well." Her mother started to pick up her plates and it slipped out,

"Not Harry, then?"

"No, he's having dinner with Hagrid tonight. I believe in Diagon Alley. I'm sure they have a lot to catch up on."

"I'm sure." She looked down at the table, and tried to compose herself. So she wouldn't see him at all today. Because if she made it through dinner, there would be no way she could stay awake until he got home.

"Come now, Ginny. These potatoes won't peel themselves!" Her mother shouted from the kitchen and her knees snapped and popped as she stood from the table. Honestly, she'd be lucky if she made it through the potatoes without falling asleep.

* * *

~*~

"It's not like curses are all that hard to break, it's just that most of these vaults have so many on them it takes a lot of time." Bill droned on while holding a goblet of elderflower wine.

"Some of these Death Eater vaults have incredible dark magic on them as well." Fleur added, sipping on some pumpkin juice. Ginny had noticed that other then Hermione and Fleur everyone had been downing goblet after goblet of wine. Her tired mind swooned again and she blew out a small breath. Her mother had made it clear that she must attend and stay at the table until people were finished with their food. Everyone was done eating, but when she'd tried to push away and escape to the comfort of her bed she'd been given a stern look.

"Do you not like elderflower wine, Fleur?" It sounded almost like she was drunk she was so tired, but it caused her family to stop chattering and look at her sister-in-law.

"I do enjoy it from time to time. I just can't drink it right now." She gave Bill a small smile and her mother gasped.

"Should we tell them?" Bill asked, he was smiling and laughing, his eyes only on his beautiful wife. Ginny realized, for the first time that night, that she looked more radiant then usual, which was saying a lot for Fleur.

"I'm pregnant." She smiled and the table erupted in an explosion of noise. "We would have told you sooner but we were waiting for the right time." She shouted and then laughed.

Charlie jumped up from the table and tackled his brother in a hug. Her Mum swiftly moved over to Fleur and gave her a long hug before touching her belly. Her father pulled out the jug of Firewhisky and started pouring a round of shots for all the adults at the table. Ron and Hermione were staring at each other in awe, and then looking at all the celebration around them. She was the only quiet one.

It wasn't that she wasn't happy for them. She was. Really, she was. But everything still felt so raw and fresh, almost like she was still bleeding from the memories of…him. She wanted to be drinking and hugging and celebrating with her family, but it felt wrong. It felt like it was too soon, and anything she could be happy about would be marred, misplaced, inappropriate, and disrespectful. She knew he would have wanted her to be happy in this moment. It mixed around inside her brain, the happiness and the overwhelming at times grief. The anxiety of this made her snappy, and edgy, she couldn't decide if she should fake being nice, or be surly and withdrawn, or just go. The exhaustion from the day pulsed through her, and she knew what she had to do. Realizing this would be her chance to escape she stood up and walked over to Fleur.

"Congratulations. I'm so happy for you both." She gave her a light squeeze.

"Thank you. We're so glad you are getting better." Fleur refused to let her go and continued to give Ginny a long hug. "You don't know what it 'as done to Bill, 'ee 'as been sick with worry over you."

"Well let's worry about you now, and my niece or nephew." She smiled through the pain. Even in this moment of pure joy for her family, her current stability was questioned. She moved out of the way for Hermione and Ron to get their turn. She knew Bill was next. She watched Charlie and her father tip back a second shot of Firewhisky before moving in for the hug.

"Congratulations big brother!" She buried her face in his chest. He squeezed her back and then leaned down,

"I'm glad you're doing better."

"Don't worry about me; let's worry about the dreaded Weasley morning sickness." She tried to joke.

"Yes, let's cross our fingers for that!" He laughed and gave her another hug. Charlie slapped him on the back and he let go. She could almost taste her pillow as she tried to make a break for the stairs.

"Where do you think you're going?" Charlie grabbed her and gave her a spin, her mind swirled with her sleep deprivation and the speed of the twirl.

"To bed, I'm so tired." She pleaded in a small voice. Charlie didn't seem to hear her. Instead he set a shot in her hand and then turned back to Bill. She passed it across the table to Ron. He raised an eyebrow at her and then slugged it down. Hermione looked on, shocked.

"I've had a drink before." He started before she could get in her scolding. "And I'm of age, so don't you start in. Lighten up, I'm going to be an Uncle!" He said it loudly to the room and everyone let out another round of clapping and robust congratulations.

"I have some special mead that Hagrid gave me. I think this calls for it!" Mr. Weasley beamed and moved toward the living room. Charlie, Ron, Hermione, and her mother quickly followed. Finally, finally she was able to break free. She turned to her brother and Fleur. He had one arm around her shoulders and another lightly rubbing her belly, a look of perfect contentment.

"Congratulations, again. I'm so happy for you both. I'm a little tired, I'm going to lay down."

"Of course, Ginny. Don't push yourself too 'ard, we 'ave plenty of time to catch up." Fleur smiled at her and Bill gave her a nod. With the final smile she could manage she started her climb. That's when the door swung open.

"Harry!" Ron yelled. She felt a whimper break through and held onto the railing. She stood there for a long time as her family bombarded him. Finally, with shaking legs she knew what she had to do. She was just too tired, and Harry deserved her full attention. He deserved her unwavering attention, and right now that was not possible. She was about ten minutes from passing out on the spot; she could feel it in her bones.

She shuffled along the wall, using it as a way to prop herself up, and with one labored foot in front of the other she finally touched her door knob. Her mind barely registered that her Mother must have fixed her door while she was doing all her slave labor. She swung the door open and stumbled into her room. A small cry of excitement broke through her lips as she hit the bed. She didn't bother with covers, she didn't worry about changing, she just snuggled down into her pillow and emptied her mind of all that had happened.

"Just a minute, I have some stuff to put away." His voice was right outside her room. The crowd below seemed pacified for the moment and her door slowly creaked open.

"Ginny? Are you awake?"

"No." She sighed into her pillow. Harry just laughed and she suddenly felt something warm cover her. "Thank you." Her sore body relaxed under the heat and sleep started to cloud her mind.

"Anytime." He whispered so close to her ear it startled her. She felt him kiss her head and then her door closed. She tried to focus on the burning near her ear, and not the burning in her ravaged hands, and blissfully fell asleep.

* * *

~*~

_She was still damp with rainwater; she'd bet Neville that it had been raining since they stepped off the Hogwarts Express. She'd won that bet. The weather had been foul and bleak, a perfect match to her sixth year at Hogwarts. It had been a whispered running theory in the Gryffindor Common Room that He Who Must Not Be Named was the cause of all the downpours. She had been sitting at an armchair, watching the rain instead of doing her homework when Neville had approached her._

_"Ginny."_

_It was the tone in his voice. One that she had come to recognize as these months had dragged on and on in insufferable anxiety and fear. She grabbed the DA coin out of her pocket and squeezed it in her hand; they would need the coins soon if she was reading his tone right. She looked up at Neville, his face grave,_

_"The Creevey's."_

_"I'll be there in twenty."_

_Neville left without another word and she let the brooding stare fill her. She glared at the rain, and then felt the dark laugh start to bubble to the surface. How many years had she watched Harry do just this, sit in a chair, staring out broodingly toward the unknown future? She shook the memory and stood, there was work to be done._

_"Off again?" Seamus asked looking at her unfinished homework piled on the floor._

_"Yeah." She checked for her wand and gave him another glance._

_"I'll help you with your Transfiguration homework when you get back." He gave her a sad smile._

_"Thanks, Seamus."_

_"Good luck."_

_The Death Eater's, posing as teachers, had been singling out all the Muggle-born students for the past few weeks. At first it was just speculation and rumors, which quickly turned into threats and intimidation. Now they were finally starting to call in the Muggle-born's for questioning. What they hadn't planned on was that the reformed DA already had a list of all the Muggle-born's. With the help of some Ravenclaw's they had been helping them fabricate Wizarding lineage. It was a stall tactic, they knew that, but it was buying them time until they could get the student's out. Frustratingly enough it was the Gryffindor's that were too stubborn or proud to accept this fake lineage._

_She and Neville had known the Creevey's would be targets soon enough. Their annoying habit of wanting to be a part of everything had worn off; to be replaced with an unending fire of pride…Gryffindor stupidity at it's best. She shook her head again to clear it and let out the swish and flick that was almost second nature now. Her beautiful red hair, something she secretly admired about herself, instantly turned into dark black, and her robes became non-descript ones. She could be anyone, in any house. They had gotten away with more nighttime rescues by changing their hair color then any other tactic. Of course no one picked red hair when doing the transfiguration…it was a sure sign of a Weasley. Since she was the only one left at Hogwarts the mane of long flowing red hair was seldom seen outside the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione would have been proud._

_There was still time before they would start patrolling the halls. The Death Eater's and Snape would have a meeting every other night in his office to go over what torture was up next, and who they were going to target. She stalked through the hallways at a quick clip. No one lingered anymore, either a teacher would push you along, or a Slytherin would jinx you along. She'd had to hold back so often and take the abuse because a bat-boogey hex would have given her away, and people would notice the freckles. The one thing she couldn't seem to transfigure away. Hermione would have known how, and every time she looked down at her freckled hands through her dark black hair her heart would ache for her friend and the two men with her…wherever they were._

_She passed by a few younger year students whispering as they were making their way through the castle._

_"My Mum keeps telling me it will all be fine, but I just don't know."_

_"I'm sure it will all be fine, they wouldn't let anything happen to us here. Hogwarts is safe."_

_"Kids keep disappearing. We hear that teacher's are looking for them and then they are gone. My sister said it was like that during the time the Chamber was open. Do you think it's open again?"_

_Ginny let out a huff and picked up the pace even faster. She didn't need flashbacks of her horrible first year tonight. And kids were disappearing because she and Neville were getting them home. She wished she could have screamed it out at the passing girls, but there were bigger forces at play, and she had more important things to do. She had to keep herself focused._

_"Potterwatch…have you heard it?"_

_"No, but my Dad says he listens to it every night."_

_"Wish they'd lift the ban on wireless, I'd love to listen in."_

_Her heart lurched at the passing conversation. She knew all about Potterwatch, how it was started, how it was going, how it desperately reminded her of the three missing pieces to her sixth year. She squeezed the DA coin in her pocket as tight as she could. The memory of her first hair transfiguration flashed across her memory, it had been the last time anyone had mentioned Potter around her. Neville had looked her up and down and commented,_

_"Jet black hair with freckles. I have a feeling this is what a daughter would look like between you and Harry, Ginny."_

_"Don't." She'd snarled out at him. The only time she had ever been outright rude and mean to Neville. The second it slipped past her lips she regretted it, and vowed to never be mean again. But it was too much, and it was too soon. Her heart was still raw from his leaving and that birthday kiss._

_"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."_

_"I'm sorry I snapped at you." And that was the end of it. Harry was only ever mentioned again in passing and without humor; he was officially taken off the list of things to talk about that night._

_She reached the hallway to the Room of Requirements and pulled out the Sneakoscope she had stolen from Fred and George. The coast was clear, and as soon as it was the door to the Room of Requirements opened. Neville was sitting at their large desk, the scraps of newspaper and plans, as well as maps of the school were spread all over it._

_"So what did you hear?"_

_"The spy we have set up in Slytherin said that they are going after the Creevey's next. We need to get the DA in order so we can smuggle them out."_

_"Do you think they'll go?" She threw her long black hair over her shoulder._

_"We might have to make them." Neville looked up at her with dark blue eyes and sandy blonde hair._

* * *

~*~

"Oh I think it's lovely."

"You expect me to believe that, Ron?" Hermione laughed. They were right outside her door. Being at the landing before the first set of stairs had its drawback, people seemed to group there waiting for any number of things.

"Of course I do." He mumbled.

"Well I believe you," she whispered back, and Ginny distinctly heard kissing sounds. She threw the pillow over her head and tried to drown it out.

"UGH!" Harry yelled and continued to stomp down the stairs. "I'll leave you two alone." Hermione and Ron laughed and stopped for the moment.

"So what do you want to do now? It's so hot here I thought maybe we should pop over to Bill and Fleur's place and take a dip, eh?" Ron suggested.

"That water would be far too cold. What's wrong with your pond?" Hermione countered.

"Other then it's nasty and tiny? Nothing I suppose." Ron joked.

"We better decide something, I know your Mum is looking for someone to help her out." Harry added lowly.

She sat up in her bed and looked across the room at the mirror. She was still in Harry's captain jacket and her newly fitted jeans. The day in the sun had helped out her horrible orange hair; it was starting to gain some of the red back. She had a feeling it would take longer then she had patients for. Still half asleep she swished her wand and watched it flash to black in the mirror. It was a familiar stranger that blinked back at her.

"Gin? You awake?" Ron pounded on her door and then threw it open. She rolled her eyes at his blatant disregard for her privacy; then again he had always been that way. "We were thinking of…what happened to your HAIR?"

Hermione and Harry were quickly shoving into the room past a stunned Ron.

"Oh no! Ginny your beautiful hair! I've never heard of something like this happening. I'm sure we can fix it. Let me get my books." Hermione was rambling. Harry and Ron were still stunned into fixed silence.

"I did it myself Hermione, calm down." She yawned. "And it's not beautiful right now, it's a disgusting orange color." She stretched above her head and gave a long look at Ron who was still flabbergasted.

"Why would you change your hair color? How could you? It's such a stubborn color." Hermione crossed in front of the boys and slid the hair between her fingers.

"I used to do it all the time at Hogwarts," she stopped and glanced up at Hermione before she could interrupt again, "When you lot weren't there."

"Why?" It was the first thing Harry had said so far. She looked in the mirror instead of him; she knew she would start blushing if she looked at him.

"It was easier to get around undetected. I didn't have a genius best friend to mix complicated potions for Neville and myself. This was the best we could come up with."

"Don't kid yourself Ginny, this is some very difficult transfiguration work here. Would you mind showing me?" She let go of the pieces she had been fondling and stood back. Ginny held out her wand and with a swish Hermione's bushy brown hair was suddenly platinum blonde and stick straight.

"Blimey!" Ron yelled and moved over to touch Hermione's hair. "Me next."

Ginny let an evil smile pass her lips and then closed her eyes to concentrate, with a silent swish her brother had bright pink hair.

"HA!" Harry laughed and Ron spun around to the mirror and let out a yell of surprise.

"Do Harry next!" Hermione clapped with excitement. Ron was pulling at his pink hair in mock horror. Ginny fixed her eyes onto Harry, a small smile across his face.

"Any requests?" She offered.

"No way! We didn't get to decide, give him blue hair or something!" Ron snapped around and crossed his arms, trying to look intimidating. She gave Harry a long look, disregarding the growing smile on his face. She couldn't imagine Harry with any hair other then black, it was trademark, just like the Weasley red. The memory of Neville's comment so long ago passed in front of her thoughts. If she would look like their daughter, she wondered if Harry with red hair would look like their son.

With a quick flick his hair was trademark Weasley red, and Harry didn't even bother to look in the mirror. He was still staring straight at her, the smile now across his whole face.

"You're a Weasley now Harry!" Ron laughed.

"Does that make Hermione a Malfoy?" Harry countered and tore his eyes away to look at Ron's flustered face.

"Of course not. Change it back Ginny!" He commanded. Hermione was still running her hands through her smooth hair. With another flick Ron's pink hair was gone, along with Harry's. She gave Hermione a few more pets before her slight flick caused an explosion of brown curls to appear again. Hermione frowned but Ron instantly ran his hands through the tangles and grabbed her up in a hug.

"Bloody Malfoy." He grumbled. "You up for some Quidditch?"

Harry and Ron were nodding yes vehemently; Hermione was shaking no as slowly as she could.

"Can I eat breakfast and change first? I am still on my bed."

"Right, of course." Harry started and grabbed Ron's arm, pulling him from the room, Hermione stumbling out still being held by Ron. "We'll be downstairs."

Hermione grasped her hands in front of herself and silently begged Ginny as she was pulled from the room. Ginny couldn't help but laugh at the leaving three; she took one last look at her strange reflection before swishing her wand and shaking out the jet-black hair.

* * *

~*~

"I don't want to be Keeper, Ron. You were Keeper at Hogwarts, why don't you do it?" Hermione anxiously paced back and forth between the brooms lined up against the shed. Ron snatched her up around the waist and laid a kiss on her worried mouth,

"Because you suck, love."

"Ugh!" Hermione pushed away from his grip and grabbed one of the brooms.

"No, you get Harry's broom." Ron pulled it from her hands.

"No way!" Ginny shouted and grabbed Harry's brand new, sent as a gift from Quality Quidditch Supplies, Firebolt herself. "It's too much broom for her." She raised an eyebrow at Ron.

"It's not too much broom," he grumbled and tried to grab it out of her hands. Ginny dodged left and right out of his hands and then took a step back into Harry. He put a steadying hand on her shoulder and then grabbed the broom out of her hand with the other.

"I think I'll fly on _my_ broom."

She dropped her hold on the broom and held her breath as Harry's hand slowly ran down her shoulder toward her back.

"Fine, fine," Ron snatched up two brooms, ignoring everyone's conflicting and pulsing emotions. Ginny let out the breath she was holding and stepped out of his lingering hand, she quickly spun around and blurted out,

"I'm Seeker."

"No way!" Harry laughed.

"You don't get the Firebolt and to be Seeker." She countered and grabbed one of the battered brooms from the shed. "Besides you wouldn't want anyone to accuse you of being a one trick dragon would you?"

"What does that even mean?" He leaned toward her and flicked a spider off her shirt. She shook the broom a few times and let the lingering spiders fall out. Ron took one look and started pulling Hermione away.

"It means I think you can only play Seeker." She crossed her arms across her chest, the handle of her broom in the crook of her right elbow. She flashed Harry a challenging smile.

"It doesn't matter," Ron warned from further away. "It's just Chasers and Keepers with only four. Can you two move away from the spiders?"

"Then I'm Chaser." Ginny smiled and mounted her broom. Before Harry could respond she flew off toward the orchard. Below her she heard Hermione moan,

"Can't Harry be Chaser? Ginny is a little too competitive in that position."

"Don't kid yourself," Ron growled, "she's good at every position."

"Sure you don't want to switch?" Harry laughed.

* * *

"Hermione! Please! Just keep your eyes open!" Ron's exasperated voice yelled from midfield. Considering what he had suffered through for an hour he was being incredibly patient.

"I give him ten more minutes before he looses it." Ginny laughed as she floated next to Harry. It had been brutal, and exhausting for Ron. The game had consisted of Hermione closing her eyes and screeching as soon as Ginny was close enough to score. Ron would then have to try and out maneuver her to block the goal, all while Harry was heckling him from the opposite side of the pitch. Ron had only managed to score one goal, and it was because her broom had malfunctioned and Harry had been paying attention to her and not the goal. She'd given him an earful, and he stuck between the posts they had erected after that.

"Should we end their misery?" Harry looked over at her, and she shrugged.

"I guess for Hermione's sake. I could torture Ron for days." She grabbed the Quaffle from his hands and took off on her broom.

The wind whipped through her hair, creating a muffled buzz in her ears. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a blur of red hair shoot up into the sky, attempting to chase her. Without Beaters in the game pick-up Quidditch could get physical extremely fast. She knew her brother was going to try and check her; he'd been doing it all afternoon. But she had always been faster on a broom then him, and had spun and braked all around his efforts. Harry's cheering and clapping from the posts had only set Ron on further edge the longer the game had drug on.

She was mid-field when she made a quick break and darted to her left. Expecting to have shook her brother she shoot off, but he had anticipated her juke. Seeing his blur of red and blue she screeched to a halt and let her broom fall to the ground, Ron buzzed past her just before she hit the ground. As he was starting to turn around she kicked off the grass and started toward the goal again.

Hermione was frozen between the two posts, her broom barely off the ground. Ginny got a better grip on the Quaffle, ready to throw it in when she heard the building buzz behind her. She turned around to see her brother seconds from colliding with her, he slammed into her, and they jumbled together, a mix of arms and brooms and swearing toward the grass. She fell on top of him, and Ron let out a wheezing breath before pushing her off. Hermione's scream caused her to flinch, and when she opened her eyes Hermione and Harry were standing over the two of them, panicked and concerned.

"What was that about?" Harry offered her a hand up.

"She can take a tackle, I've been playing Quidditch with her longer then you have." He shot off. Hermione had made it over to the two of them and waved her fluttering hands over her brother's limbs. "I'm fine, 'Mione." He gently pushed her away.

"Really Ron, the two of you could have been hurt. Ginny is in no shape to be doing something that physical." Hermione continued to dust off Ron's clothes. Harry was staring at Ron with narrowed eyes, and she squeezed the Quaffle between her hands.

"Stop making excuses for her. She might be thin but she's better now. And the longer everyone coddles her the longer it's going to take for her to be 100%." Ron crossed his arms across his chest and glared at Harry. It was as if she'd disappeared.

Anger flared in her chest. She kicked her broom aside and marched over to stand between the three of them.

"I'm right HERE!" She gave Ron a blistering look and then fixed her glare to Harry. "Stop talking about me like I'm not right in front of you! Stop coming into my room and having conversations that don't involve me! Stop thinking you know what's best for me! All of you!" She finished with a shout. Impulsively she grabbed the Quaffle in one hand, cocked her arm back, and fired it through the goal posts. "We win!" She turned on her heel toward the house.

"Let her go, Harry." Hermione's voice carried over the grass and she kept storming away. "She has a point."

"Two of them," Ron spat and then finished with a yell, "at the top of her head!"

She whirled around and shot off a bat-boogey hex straight at his face. Even from the stretch she had put between them she knew she'd hit him. Ron fell to the grass franticly waving his arms around.

"Brilliant!" Harry laughed. She could hear Hermione's orders for Ron to stop twitching cross the clearing but she kept storming toward her room. She hit the door and realized she what she was about to do. She just ordered everyone to stop treating her like she was invisible, but she was about to send herself back to the place that everyone ignored her. The smile grew across her face and she spun on the spot, imagining every single boring detail Neville had given her of his greenhouse over the past months.

* * *

~*~

"Ginny! What a great surprise!"

She heard his voice but could not see Neville anywhere. There, on the large patch of grass in his Gran's back yard was an enormous house made of glass. Magical and Muggle plants were moving around inside its clouded walls. The outside of the glass house was streaked with rainwater and dust. The size of it had her feet panted to the ground. She wasn't expecting something that almost dwarfed the real house behind it.

Neville opened a door and the sun caught it sending a rainbow of colors across the greenhouse. He shoved some hand shovels and clippers into the apron he had slung around his waist.

"You came on the perfect day. You have to come inside, right now!" He reached her and grabbed her wrist. With his other hand he let out a loud whistle and his owl swoop out from nowhere and landed on his shoulder. Ginny jumped but Neville just pulled her along toward the greenhouse, his owl perched on his shoulder like a parrot. Once inside he grabbed a piece of parchment from the messy desk and scribbled down,

_She's with me._

_-Neville_

He rolled it up into a small scroll and handed it up to his owl. She gave him a long blink, awaiting instruction.

"Take this to Harry Potter at the Burrow."

With another blink she spread her giant wings and swooped out of the house and into the afternoon. Ginny gave a curious look,

"Any reason in particular?"

"You don't want him sending out a searching party for you, right?"

"Guess not."

Neville turned back to his desk and she looked around. Muggle and magical plants were living side by side, almost making the Muggle ones look magical with the way they were all mixed and twined together.

"They do better together. Some magical plants need the competition of the Muggle ones. It makes them bigger and healthier. It also produces better color. I've been able to cultivate the first purple fanged Geranium. Just don't touch it." He pulled her back from the quivering, beautiful, purple flowers.

"This is amazing Neville. I could not even imagine how wonderful this would have been. Your stories did it no justice." She continued to walk around, Neville close behind, steering her away from the plants that might harm her, letting her touch the ones that wouldn't.

"Are you ready for the big surprise?" He covered her eyes with his dirt-covered hands and started moving her down the last few feet of the row. When he let go a smaller glass house stood before her. Around it was amazing rose bushes, Flutterby bushes, and some irises. She moved toward the greenhouse within a greenhouse and saw the glistening emerald green roses. It was bizarre, the green of the stems, leaves, and thorns paled in comparison to the brilliant shining green of the roses.

"They're perfect. It's the exact color." She spun around to find Neville staring at the roses himself. "How did you even know?"

"I've seen the way he looks at you Ginny, even back at Hogwarts. His eyes would change color when he'd look at you." He continued to stare through the glass as the flowers started to shimmer with a dew.

"They are that color when he's happy." She whispered.

"Well, he was always happy when you were around. Everyone could see that. It was the few times he was ever happy." He looked over at her. "I take it you've figured it out now."

"Hermione told me, on accident. But it seems that everyone has been telling me all along, I just wasn't paying attention." She looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

"No worries. Now you know." He smiled at her. Ginny turned to face him,

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I tried. But you know how I get in awkward situations. I think he's a little jealous of our friendship." He fished around inside his pockets, unwilling to meet her eyes.

"It stopped being just a friendship when we reformed the DA Neville. And you know that. I don't know if there is a name for the relationship we have, but you are more then just a friend to me. Who cares if Harry is jealous, let him simmer in it. Not like we've been cut out from their little threesome time and time again."

"Oh don't get bitter," he laughed. He pulled out a red vile from his pocket. "They have all been great friends to me, and there were some things that we just weren't meant to be a part of. I don't blame them for keeping things secret from all of us. It must have been hard to have all that pressure building between the only people you could trust. I would hear them fighting a lot. But Harry always trusted me when it came down to it, and I'd prefer to work on a need to know basis when it comes to all the trouble he seems to find. That snake was enough trouble to last me a lifetime."

"I suppose you're right." She sighed and looked back at the flowers. "I always had to fight my way into the trouble."

"That's because he cares for you. Let it go, Ginny." He gave her shoulder a pat and screwed the lid off the tiny red vile. "So I want you to give him the first harvest from the Weeping Roses."

"Why me? You're the one that did all the work." She stepped back as he opened the door and stepped inside the tiny greenhouse. He quickly closed it behind him. Very slowly and carefully Neville grabbed the head of the flower, just above the stem. He held out the vile below the rose and squeezed the petals together until all the tiny drops of dew formed into a small stream into the vile. It quickly filled the bottle and Neville let go. The flower unfolded itself and came to rest among the others. It was the only one that wasn't glistening now. Neville screwed the top back on and quickly left the greenhouse.

"You have to take it because I have some very important Herbology experts coming tomorrow and I need to get my greenhouse in order." Neville handed the vile to her and wiped his hands on his apron.

"Really?" She exclaimed and grabbed him up into the strongest hug she could muster. "I'm so proud of you Neville. I know they'll love everything. They are going to be so impressed!"

"We'll see. Mostly they are coming to see the Weeping Roses. But I want to show them some of the other projects I've been working on. Do you know how to use the serum from the Weeping Roses?" He moved back toward his desk and she followed him through a forest of umbrella-sized flowers above her.

"No, can't say that I do." She stopped at his desk and he took the vile from her hands.

"This is a concentrated version," he held it in front of her, making sure she was paying attention. "You only need a drop for each burn. Just one drop. I don't really know what will happen if you do more then that. Some say it could actually burn him…which is odd, but that's magical plants for you."

"Just one drop." She nodded. "Then what?"

"You need to gently rub it in and then the blisters and scars will be gone. His skin will be perfect again. There should be enough in there for Ron as well. Maybe even Hermione, but I didn't really see any on her." He handed the vile back to her.

"I don't think thank you can really cover this Neville. You grew this only to help someone else. That is amazing." She hugged him again.

"Well, once it actually worked I was thinking about myself more then the initial intention of the plant. But it will give a good harvest, and just in time for the experts to come. And now Harry and Ron can get some piece of mind." He hugged her back.

"So, should we grab a butterbeer after your success?" She smiled at him and gently put the vile into her pocket.

"Let's not jinx it," he crossed his fingers. "But yes."

Neville showed her the way out of the maze of shrubs and flowers and gave her a wave before she turned and was gone.

She turned the tiny red vile around in her hands again watching the syrup like substance coat the sides as it slide around.

"So how is Neville?"

She spun around at the sound of his voice and squeezed the vile in the palm of her hand. Now, with him standing in front of her, she'd lost irritated edge her thoughts had about him.

"Good. He is well. He is having some experts come look at his greenhouse, he's doing amazing things in there." She leaned against her desk, knowing her feet would stumble all over themselves if she moved. Harry moved into the center of the room and shoved his hands into his pockets. She could see the scars that Neville had been talking about all along his forearms. Some were still bright pink; others were starting to fade to white. It seemed like they were everywhere.

"Like what?" She snapped her attention away and cleared her throat. It was now or never.

"Weeping Roses. Apparently they are very hard to grow and harvest. But they do wonders for burns and scars and things. He's been able to grow a thriving bush of them and had a harvest already. It's really big news, he's very excited." She squeezed the bottle in her hand again.

"They gave us some at the hospital, when you first got there. It was amazing, it got the scars and the blisters off of our faces and hands. Ron and I gave the rest to Hermione," he moved closer to her. "Girls aren't really supposed to have ugly scars."

"Not that she would mind." Ginny defended her friend.

"Of course not, she would have never asked, but Ron insisted." He moved closer to her again. "So what's in your hand?"

"The first harvest. Neville planted them for you." She squeezed the vile.

"Really?" The smile was fast and genuine. "He's a good friend."

"He had to get his greenhouse in order, so he wanted me to give this to you." She extended out her hand and opened her palm to reveal the red vile, still sliding around coating the sides. "There will be more, but he said this should be enough."

"I'm sure it will be fine." He grabbed the vile out of her hand and held it up to the light. It made the bottle sparkle with red light. "In the hospital they gave us these wipes. It had a mixture of Weeping Roses extract with some other things in it."

"Well this is concentrate. Neville said that you just had to rub a dot of it on the scar and it will disappear." She watched him turn the bottle over and over again in his hands, he was even closer now, just an arm reach in front of her.

"Maybe we should wait for Ron. He has some scars as well." He handed the vile back to her.

"Don't be stupid. There is enough for both of you. Neville made sure of that. And he planted them because of you." She screwed the lid off the top of the bottle and a wonderful floral fragrance filled the room. "Wasn't ready for that."

"It's nice." He took another step toward her and sniffed the bottle. "But strong."

"So I guess you just," she gripped the tiny vile between her thumb and pointer fingers and let a drop hang on her finger. She set the vile down on her desk and grabbed his arm. Gently she rubbed the thick substance over one of the first scars she saw and as she lifted her finger it was gone. "Amazing."

She grabbed the vile from her desk and got to work. Harry held incredibly still as she put dot after dot on top of his scars. She brushed her hands up and down his forearms moving closer and closer into him as she worked up. She turned them over again and again to make sure she wasn't missing anything. Then she noticed one just under the sleeve of his shirt. She pushed it up onto his shoulder and found a few more. As she moved over to the other shoulder she brushed against his chest. She had been concentrating so hard she hadn't noticed how close they had gotten. Harry sucked in a large breath, but continued to look forward. She pushed the sleeve up on his other arm and covered the few remaining scars.

She looked at the vile it was half full now. Harry's breath fell across her face and she looked up. Now intimately aware of how close they were.

"All done." She whispered and felt her chest start to heave with anticipation. She wasn't sure what she was anticipating, she was still regaining some of her old instincts, but then Harry leaned down.

His arms wrapped around her, bringing her tight against his body, and then his lips touched her own and she closed her eyes. A blazing intensity filled her chest and she started to kiss him back. His hands moved up into her hair, fingering through it as he continued to shower her with gentle kisses. She felt her own hands wrap around his waist as she pulled herself closer, their bodies now touching on every surface.

A fire started to burn in her chest, and she realized it wasn't emotion she had to breathe. She pulled back a little to suck in a breath and Harry stopped.

"I'm sorry." He panted.

"Don't be." She heaved back, and moved her hands up his back to push him back down to her. Their lips met for a second time and she felt a building heat rise from her stomach, making her whole body tingle.

"Ginny I put your laundry in the," her mother's voice sputtered to a stop as her door swung open. "Oh my."

She dropped her hands to her side in surprise, Harry had as well and she fell against her desk, smashing her hip into the corner. She let out a groan as her flustered mother grabbed the door handle and slammed it shut on the two of them. She grabbed her hip and started rubbing it.

"Are you okay?" He moved her hand away and lifted her shirt a little to see the forming bruise.

"I'll be fine." She looked down as his fingers started to rub over her bruise, she felt the heat intensify right around her stomach and let out a huff of air. Harry clenched his hand and quickly pulled it away.

"I should probably leave." He smiled at her.

"Or at least open the door. She'll be back soon." She smiled back at him.

"Right," he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He hesitated and she felt a heady swoon start to build in anticipation of his lips moving down toward her own again. But then he let go and was across the room before she could grab to stop him. He made sure to keep her door open on his way out. As his feet pounded up the stairs to Ron's room she heard her Mother slowly taking the stairs. She paused in the doorway,

"I left your laundry in the wash room. You should go get it." She saw the hint of a smile cross her mother's mouth and then she went back down the stairs to the kitchen. She started humming a song as she got to work on dinner.

Ginny took in a huge breath, trying to steady herself and regain composure, but she couldn't wipe the smile off her face.

* * *

~*~

"So?" Hermione slyly asked. She shuffled the cards again, by hand, and then passed them out to Ginny.

"What?" She picked up her handful of cards and tried to suppress the smile she couldn't get rid of.

"You can't stop smiling. I just want to know why. You haven't been this happy for a while." She looked up at her over her cards.

"Have I?" She tried to be evasive. Just because Ron and Hermione insisted on have a very physical and very public relationship didn't mean she had to. The thought of a relationship with Harry made her smile again and she looked down at her cards. Better not get ahead of herself, it was just a kiss.

"Come on Ginny!" She slammed her cards down onto the table and squared off. Ginny just continued to look at her cards, keeping them close to her face in an attempt to hide her smile.

"How do you play this game again? I'm still confused on which kind of pairs I'm supposed to get." She started moving the cards around in her hand.

"You are impossible!" Hermione groaned.

"Now you finally realize it." Ron laughed and moved down the stairs to stand behind her. Ginny focused extra hard on her cards, knowing Harry would be quick after.

"She won't tell me why she's so happy." Hermione looked up at Ron with a knowing arch of her eyebrow.

"Neither will this one." Ron jerked his head toward the descending Harry.

"Something's different about you, Harry." Hermione scrutinized. Ginny glanced up over her cards and Harry smiled at her. She looked back down, before Hermione could spot her.

"Is there?"

"Oh now you're being evasive too? Wonderful." Hermione grumbled and reached out to grab his passing arm. "Your scars are gone."

"Thanks to Neville. There's some serum for you too Ron." Harry slipped out of Hermione's grip and sat down on the sofa next to Ginny. Right next to her. She could feel his body heat.

"Neville's a mediwizard now?" Ron sat on the edge of the armchair that was stationed across from the couch. He set his feet onto the coffee table to steady himself.

"No, he grew Weeping Roses and they heal burns and scars." Ginny lightly said over her cards. "I don't remember the rules now, Hermione."

"What are you two playing?" Harry reached across the back of her neck, his arm resting on her shoulders, and grabbed for the cards out of her hands.

"I knew IT!" Hermione shouted, her cards flying into the air with her excitement.

"Knew what?" Ginny turned bright red and Harry's hand froze across her shoulders. Hermione pointed at Harry's hand and recognition filtered across Ron's face as well.

"So you two are back together now?" Ron narrowed his eyes at Harry.

"Ahh," Ginny stalled and glanced over at Harry. He was still watching Hermione's bouncing excitement. She wasn't going to say a word, she had no idea what they had, and the word 'together' held a connotation she didn't know if she was ready for. It was just a kiss, people kissed all the time maybe she had read too far into it.

"So I was thinking that we could all go help get the nursery ready for Fleur and the baby tomorrow." Her mother announced and entered the room. She sat down at her usual armchair and pulled out her knitting. The four looked over at her, but were still silently waiting for an answer from either Harry or Ginny.

"That sounds lovely, Mrs. Weasley." Hermione offered and started to pick up her cards. Crisis averted Harry slowly retracted his hand from her shoulders.

"What would we be doing?" Harry handed the cards back to Ginny.

"Oh painting and assembling the crib and things. Putting safety charms all around the house. Things like that." Mrs. Weasley held up the tiny pink jacket she was working on in front of herself.

"You think Fleur is having a girl, mum?" She shuffled the cards around in her hand, anxious about the conversation she knew was still brewing between the four of them.

"I just know it will be a girl. I can feel it. Just like I knew when we would finally have you Ginny. I could feel it in my bones." She smiled at the jacket and then set it down on her lap. "Oh, was in interrupting something?"

"No." Ron slowly answered. "Right, Harry?"

"Hum," Harry evaded again and Ginny tensed at the delicate color pink her brother turned. Hermione grabbed his arm, trying to tug him into calming down. She gave Ginny a worried glance,

"Well I better go. My parents were expecting me for their Bunco night. Ron, will you walk me out?" Hermione nervously announced. Mrs. Weasley gave her a polite smile and looked back down at her knitting.

"Good night dear. We'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"Of course." She huffed as she drug Ron from the room. Harry glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes and she shook her head no. She knew better, and as soon as Ron was out of earshot Mrs. Weasley continued to look down at her knitting and lowly decreed,

"Let's keep your door open at all times from now on, Ginny."

"Yes, Mum." She answered as fast as she could. She stood as her mother nodded a few times at the knitting, a signal that they could leave. Harry was quick at her heels as she fled the living room. The reached her room and she flung open the door.

"She knows all. I think she could give Trelawney a run for her money." Ginny grumbled.

"What do you mean?" Harry sat on her bed.

"She knew Ron was going to explode at us, so she materialized in the living room to save us. And then she waited until he was gone to reprimand me." She stood in front of him and placed her hands on her hips.

"Scary."

The both froze as the front door slammed underneath them. So Ron wouldn't be taking Hermione home tonight.

"Ronald, could you come in here?" Her mother called out, and with a grumble they heard him move into the living room.

"I better go." Harry pushed off from the bed and stood in front of her.

Annoyance filled her chest and she harshly whispered,

"He can bugger off. He's not the boss of me."

"You're right," he laughed and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. His fingers slid down the length of it and twirled the red-orange strand around his fingers. "But I have to live with him."

"You could move into Bill's room." She offered and stepped closer to him.

"Nah," he brushed the hair off her shoulder. "I've only stayed there, it's my room."

"Suite yourself. But you're about to get an earful." She moved to step away from him and let him pass, but he closed the space and quickly cupped her chin in his hand. The kiss was soft and short, he pulled away slightly and whispered against her lips,

"Goodnight, Ginny."

"Goodnight," she sighed into him. His hand brushed against her cheek before he let go. Ron's footsteps thudded up the stairs and they both grinned at each other before he turned on the spot and with a pop was gone.

"Where is he?" Ron growled.

"How should I know?" She snapped back. He kept his disgruntled look and marched up the stairs.

Once he was gone she touched her cheek, then her lips, and fell down onto her bed. Things were about to get complicated very fast, but for tonight she could enjoy what had happened. A fluttering bird settled at her window and shook her from her happy moment. She crossed the room and took the parchment. The bird stuck to the windowsill. It must have been expecting a reply. She unrolled the parchment,

_I know what happened, and I am happy for you both. If anyone deserves happiness right now it is the two of you. Ron will come around don't worry. He's just worried about you; he remembers how upset you were when Harry had to break up with you. _

_But he is pretty mad; you might want to be careful._

_On second thought, burn this after reading it._

_All my love,_

_Hermione_

The owl hooted at her and with a swish of her wand the letter fell to the desk as ash. With another hoot the owl took off into the sunset and Ginny let out a sigh. Ron was the brother that had taken the brunt of the abuse when she had cried herself to sleep for weeks over the summer break. When it came down to it Harry was his friend, but she was his sister, and he had an obligation to uphold her honor.

She thought it was stupid old-fashioned custom that was making her brothers pressure Ron into confronting Harry about how badly he had hurt her, but Ron had held his ground. She would forever be grateful for that, because Ron actually understood what was going on. Harry hadn't broken up with her because he didn't like her; he'd broken up with her to protect her. But no one could know that, because no one was supposed to know that the three of them were taking off as soon as summer was over.

Ron had deflected the threats and taunts of his best friend all summer long, but the kiss before the wedding had been his breaking point. He had been forced to listen to her sobs, and her mother's soothing words every night. He had not said a word, but they all came flowing out when he'd walked in on that kiss. Her tears that day were a mixture of shame, embarrassment, and love. The love she'd felt for Harry, the embarrassment of being caught, and the shame of being angry at her brother for finally snapping at his best friend. She should have been mad at Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George, but all her anger was focused on Ron, and she knew he would shoulder it all.

She could hear the muted shouts above her and before she knew it she was sprinting up the stairs. She cracked the door open to see Ron standing over Harry who was sitting on his cot.

"I won't let this happen again. I won't. You crushed her when you broke up with her. And this wasn't the first time Harry, and you know it. You've known she's liked you for a long time now. She is still too fragile to have you leave on a whim again."

"That's not going to happen, and _you_ know it."

"How can you be so sure? What if something else crops up? It always does. Are you going to crush her again because you don't want evil to chase after her? It always does, no matter what you try to do to stop it. Merlin knows what she suffered through at Hogwarts when we were gone. It's no, it's a no Harry."

"That's rich, coming from you of all people. I watched Hermione sob over you for SEVEN years Ron! SEVEN! With all your nonsense with Lavender, and being so cruel about Krum, I was the one that was there for her then. Don't try to assume that I have no decency."

"Hermione's different, leave her out of this."

"How?" Harry stood, Ron was still taller then him but a mean look crossed his face and Ginny sucked in a breath.

"Ginny is my sister, I have to protect her, even from you. Especially from you! Because you know the worst ways to hurt her somehow. She never cried over that Connor kid or Dean, only you." Ron crossed his arms and watched Harry swallow hard and then sit back down. "I can't let you hurt her again."

"I won't hurt her, Ron."

"I just don't know if I can trust that, Harry." He finished in a quiet voice. She couldn't stand to see them fighting,

"Please," she pushed the door open and they both jumped with surprise. "Please don't fight, not over me."

"Ginny," Ron grumbled and looked down at the floor. She crossed the room and pulled his arms apart trapping him in a hug.

"Please Ron, not now, please don't be mad. Please don't fight." She squeezed him tighter. "This isn't like the last time."

"Oh but I think it is." It rumbled in his chest and he lightly hugged her back. "I can't stay in this house much longer, being still for so long is driving me crazy. I think we're hard wired to be on the run now, we did it for too long."

"You're just saying that because you're angry." She pressed into his chest.

"No, it's the truth. I'm honestly surprised you haven't left yet." Ron said over her head to Harry.

"I told you, it's not like that anymore. The only place I want to be is here. That's why I've been turning down the Auror jobs, and the Quidditch try-outs, and the Ministry invites. I'm supposed to be here, not out there. Not anymore."

They let go at the same time and turned to stare at Harry, it came out at the same time,

"Harry." The shock mixed with the awe in a swirl of disbelief.

"Auror jobs?" Ginny continued.

"Quidditch try-outs?" Ron was flabbergasted.

"I know." He looked away from them and Ginny hung her head and covered her eyes in disappointment. Out of all the wonderful things he could have been doing he wanted to be her nurse, her babysitter, her boyfriend?

"You were always meant for more then all this Harry." It slipped from her mouth as a whisper.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me." Ron was next.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want to see that look on your face," he grumbled and stood up. He grabbed her around her arms and gave her a searing look, "And none of it would mean anything without you, Ginny."

"I…I don't know what to say." She stuttered. Ron looked back and forth between them.

"So you really aren't leaving again?" His voice was incredulous.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you. I'm not going anywhere, not with without your sister." He turned back to look at her, "If you'll have me."

"Harry…" she dropped off. She was locked into his stare, his emerald green eyes boring into her own, seeking out the answer before it passed her lips. But her mind was frozen, she'd forgotten how to speak, and worst of all she didn't know the answer. She still had a year of school left, and she had no idea when that was going to happen, let alone if she would be able to ever set foot inside Hogwarts again without being committed for a second time. Would he wait around for all that?

How many times could he turn down Auror school, or a Ministry position before the temptation was too great? How many Quidditch try-outs would he pass on before he wanted to fly again? And what of her own dreams, her own plans? Would he follow her to a University? Would he trail her through her own career path? Didn't he have goals and dreams of his own? She couldn't be the only thing he ever wanted. There was no way.

She wanted him, there was no doubt about that, but would that be enough?

"MUM! I need some help in here!" Charlie yelled from the kitchen and Ron moved around them to see what was wrong.

"Harry I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything." His hands were still wrapped around her arms.

"But this is…huge."

"I know."

The just continued to stare at each other. Ron's footfalls mixed with the noise from downstairs.

"George?" Her mother shrieked. And her heart fell into her stomach. All the breath left her chest and Harry crushed her to him as she struggled to remain upright. Her mind started screaming what couldn't come past her lips.

Not George. Not George. Not George.

* * *

~*~

Author's Note:

Once again, private islands and first borns going out to Casca and Courtney. A thousand thank you's!


	6. Chapter 6

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 6~

_Because baby I'm not alright when you go,_

_I'm not fine. Please be all mine._

_I never want you to go._

_Because I am all yours, so please be all mine._

_Earthquake by The Used_

* * *

~*~

Leaning against Harry they fumbled down the stairs as fast as they could. At the landing for the dining room he hesitated, and she tore herself away from his side and stumbled into the dining room. George was slumped over in a chair, the top half of his body resting on the table.

"What happened?" She yelled, finally finding her voice. He wasn't dead, that much she could tell. Deep, heavy breaths and some slight snoring made the vice that had been squeezing her heart, in preparation of the worst, loosen the hold.

"Passed out, drunk." Charlie was wiping something off his coat.

"What happened to you?" She moved toward him and covered her nose and mouth with her hand; he reeked of booze and vomit.

"Side along apparition isn't the best choice when dragging your pissed brother home. They cut him off at some bar in Diagon Alley and he sent me an owl telling me to come get him." He gave up hope on his jacket and took it off, throwing it to the ground.

"I thought he was still at the shop at this hour." Mrs. Weasley observed. She had her arms crossed over her chest, a mix of worry and disappointment on her face.

"He told the new girl he was going out and to close the shop. Apparently she's been doing it for a couple weeks now. The bartender told me he goes in there every night, and that he wasn't welcomed back. I guess he broke a few things and puked all over the men's toilet." Charlie sniffed his shirt and then crumpled his face in disgust; it quickly came off as well.

"I had no idea it was this bad." Ron quietly commented.

"You knew?" Ginny snapped. All eyes turned to Ron.

"He'd come over a couple times for dinner and would smell horrible, I'd tell him to go change. And Hermione and I went to see him at the shop a few times, he didn't look so hot, but none of us do right now." He gave Ginny a knowing glance. She turned away from him and took a second look at George. He was covered in vomit; it was over every piece of clothing. His hair was messy and long, and even in his alcohol induced coma he still looked troubled.

"George." Her mother clucked her tongue and grabbed Charlie into a hug. "You are a good brother, you are a wonderful son."

"This is Fred's fault."

The family, including a still silent Harry, all turned to look at Ron. He was seething with sudden rage.

"Ronald?" Her mother dropped Charlie.

"This would have never happened if he was still around. Fred did this to George, it's his fault! George will never be the same again because Fred died!" He kicked the chair in front of him so hard that it splintered and then limply fell to the ground. Everyone was stunned into silence, although Ginny couldn't help but agree with him. This was Fred's fault. She saw Harry swallow really hard and then move over to Ron,

"It's okay to be mad at him, Ron."

"Shut up, Harry." He seethed and kicked the fallen chair.

"It's okay to be mad at everyone." He pushed the chair out of the way with his foot and reached out a hand to his friend. Ron crossed his arms and looked down at the floor. "Let's just go outside."

At first everyone was still frozen, staring at Harry's outstretched hand, but then Ron nodded and followed him out. It wasn't until the screen door banged shut that her Mother started to breathe again.

"You need a shirt Charlie?" Ginny offered. He nodded and followed her up the stairs, leaving Mrs. Weasley to try and clean up George.

They silently picked through Bill's old clothes, tucked away in boxes in the spare room. Finally settling on a Cannon's t-shirt they moved back downstairs. She didn't know what to say. Thank you? George was everyone's brother; it was all their responsibility to look after him. What she wanted to say was it was her fault. Everyone was always so focused on her that George had been ignored. Maybe he had been giving warning signs of his distress, but no one had noticed.

Ron was still fuming in an armchair in the living room, but he was keeping his sudden anger to himself. Charlie turned the corner into the dining room and she followed. Her mother was trying to revive George, and keep him awake long enough to get some Pepperup Potion in him.

"Best leave it to nature Mum." Charlie closed in on her and took the potion away. "I have a feeling he's been abusing this potion. Sometimes you need to feel the hangover in order to appreciate the lesson." She let go and Charlie moved into the kitchen to put it back.

"Oh George," she sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. "What can I do for you?"

"I think he needs help at the shops." Harry was coming across the landing from the living room. "Maybe the stress of running two on his own got to him."

"Perhaps," her mother's voice was far away.

"Or because his twin died." Ron grumbled. Ginny rolled her eyes to suppress the growl that was threatening to come out.

"Ron." Harry started.

"No," he shoved past them all to stand next to George. "It's not like a brother died, it was his twin, his other half. Fred left him all alone, with no one that truly understands him." Ron crossed his arms over his chest, his face still blazing with anger, but did not see fit to destroy another chair.

"You're right." She whispered, and everyone bowed their heads. The admission churned in her stomach, causing acid and shame to erupt into her throat. She was selfish to think she was suffering alone. All this time she thought no one could understand her exact brand of pain, and yet here her brother sat, with a pain no one would ever be able to understand. Flashbacks of bad experiences and Dark Lords were a common occurrence, losing your other half was not. With a shaky breath she let the tears fall down her face.

"Let's get him to bed. He won't wake up for hours, and we can go from there." Charlie was the first to shake himself out of the somber mood. He had always been one of the level headed brothers; it was probably why he could handle dragons so well. He could see the danger in situations and act accordingly and quickly. With a nod to Harry they pulled out their wands and George was soon levitating out of the dining room and into Bill's.

"Ronald," her mother outstretched her hand, but Ron just shook his head and headed up the stairs. The arm fell down dejectedly and she watched her Mum squeeze her eyes shut to stop the tears. She wished she could help, but she was still crying herself. "It will be okay." Her mother whispered nodding her head over and over again. For once in her life, her mother didn't look so sure.

* * *

~*~

"I just can't help but feel like this is my fault." She peeled the label from her bottle of butterbeer. It was still half sticking to the bottle, and she continued to pick at the shreds, littering the kitchen table in Neville's grandmother's house.

The trip to Bill and Fleur's had been cancelled, Ron and Harry had been in his room all day, and George had apparated back to his apartment when everyone was asleep. Her mother had kept to herself, and Ginny found that she was all alone. The one day she didn't want to be alone. A quick owl to Neville had them mourning over butterbeer. Well, she was mourning, Neville was attempting to celebrate.

"Sorry to bring you down, Neville. It's such fantastic news that your experiments are going to be published and everything. Are they coming back?"

He took a long swig and nodded yes. She had felt tremendous guilt at wiping the smile off his face, but if anyone was going to understand it would be him.

"Next month. They want to see if the greenhouse can sustain the flowers for longer then their typical growing period. They also want to check back in on my flutterbye bushes. I hadn't noticed it, because I was so focused on the roses, but they were starting to bud. Which is a little strange for those bushes."

"It's not strange, it's amazing." She looked up and gave him a huge smile, the best fake smile she could muster.

"I guess it is. So what did Charlie have to say?" He took a swig.

"Not much."

"I'm sure the details will start to emerge soon. Maybe George just accepted too many rounds. I know I always get drinks sent to me when I'm out with Gran or anyone else. People want to show their thanks, you know?" He finished off his butterbeer and banished them to the trash. With another flick two more ice cold bottles were on the table. Ginny yanked the cork out and quickly took a sip.

"Maybe, but George hasn't been doing so well. And apparently he's been going out every night. Ron said he always looked a little ill when he'd seen him during the day." She took a long, hard drink. A lump was starting to form in her throat, and she was so tired of tears.

"Sounds like he's just working it out. It's a good thing he's from such a strong family." Ginny looked down at the table, shamed by his confidence, things were falling apart in her strong family. "Ginny," she looked back up. "He'll be fine."

"Let's hope so." She rose her bottle and the clink from Neville's seemed to echo in the kitchen.

"Neville, dear, you have a visitor." They both turned to the sound of his Gran's voice. She had given them privacy for the last half hour, but her eyes were gleaming with excitement as Hermione stepped in. Ginny tried to suppress the giggle. Of course his Gran would think Hermione was here for Neville, and not to just see them both. The reporter's still hadn't really had a chance to make the connection of romance between Ron and Hermione. Only friends and family knew.

"Hermione? Wow! It's great to see you!" Neville jumped up from the table, knocking the butterbeer's over, Ginny grabbed for them before they could spill. They quickly hugged each other, and Neville's Gran disappeared back into the shadows.

"Sorry to come unannounced, but I was told Ginny was here with you, and I thought maybe you'd both like some company?"

Neville gave an enthusiastic yes as he pulled out a chair for her and summoned another butterbeer. Ginny peeled the next label off, refusing to make eye contact. Ron must still be really angry if Hermione was here.

"I've heard that Phyllida Spore's colleagues came to research your Weeping Roses." Hermione daintily sipped her butterbeer. Neville's face lit up like Christmas morning. Leave it to Hermione to know exactly what to say to make Neville happy again.

"Yes, yes they were her colleagues. They said that she was at a conference about fungi, and was upset that she could not be there. But they took several pictures and notes and brought them back to her. I just heard today that they are going to be publishing a new section in One Thousand Wonderful Herbs and Fungi about my experiment for the latest addition."

"Neville, that's amazing! To think we'll all know a published Herbologist! And if it's for the latest addition it will be at Hogwarts when we all go back! You'll be learning about yourself!" Hermione let out a laugh of excitement.

"I suppose you're right." Neville turned bright red and laughed as well. Ginny looked between the two of them and felt the giggle bubble at the absurdity of it all. To be laughing about books? Strange, but then again her friends were strange.

"Why hadn't we learned about this before, Neville? I don't remember Weeping Roses in Herbology."

"You learn about it in N.E.W.T.'s." Hermione and Neville said over each other. They quickly plunged into conversation about theory and the design of his experiment.

"That explains it." Ginny said to herself and finished off the bottle. She had managed to get every speck of paper off when they finally came up for air.

"I really believe you've changed the way we look at Herbology, Neville. To harness the competitive nature like that was brilliant." Hermione finished with a huge smile. She took a sip of her butterbeer, enjoying the wake of the intellectual conversation and noticed the pile of paper shreds on the counter.

"So Ginny, are you planning on going back to Hogwarts when it re-opens?"

She shot her head up at being addressed. For a while she felt invisible again, they were both waiting for her answer.

"I don't know."

"Why?" Hermione beat Neville to the punch. She squirmed in her seat, and then looked back down at the bottle before answering.

"I don't know if I'll be able to go back."

"What do you mean?" Hermione continued to push. She glanced up through her lashes at Neville, and recognition set in.

"It won't be like that, Ginny. You'll be fine." He gave her a sad smile.

"Oh," Hermione fell silent.

"I just don't want to go back to the 4th floor, you know? I think going back to Hogwarts might do that." She finished with a huff and the hundreds of tiny paper particles blew all over the two of them.

"You're so much stronger then that. Just because you had some difficulty adjusting at the end of the war doesn't mean you're damaged. It just means you needed some help." Hermione's voice was calm and quiet, the perfect pitch of understanding and respect. "You won't make me go alone, will you?"

"What?" Ginny looked up.

"Harry said he's not going back. And if Harry isn't, then Ron won't. So it will just be me." She looked down at the bottle, a sad frown crossing her face.

"And me. I'd like to finish properly." Neville quietly added. "Come on, Ginny, we'll all be in the same year together!"

"Maybe," she offered and the two seemed to relax a bit. A horrible mix of anxiety and fear threatened to crawl up her throat, but she beat it back down to battle it later. Today was about Neville. Everything needed to stop being about her.

"Would you like to stay for afternoon tea? My Gran makes the best sandwiches." Neville offered and stood. Hermione and Ginny looked at each other for a moment and then shrugged. If Ron was going to be in a foul mood, and Harry felt like shouldering the burden of his rage, then some tea and sandwiches would be the perfect way to spend the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

~*~

She kicked a pebble down the sunlit path. The birds, the bees, the frogs, the trees, everything was singing. Everything was green, lush, billowing in a soft breeze of summer delight. She felt nothing but black. After apparating right outside the boundary set in place around the Burrow Hermione had opted to walk back. They were both avoiding the house, and they both knew why, but neither had said anything. It was a short walk from the boundary, but their silence seemed to drag it on forever.

"Did he tell you to leave?" Ginny couldn't take it anymore.

"No," Hermione kicked a pebble as well. "He didn't come out of his room, so I left."

"He didn't even say anything? That's a little rude."

"Harry just gave me a look, so I knew I should go. Your Mum told me you went to Neville's." She pulled her mass of hair off her neck and closed her eyes as the breeze cooled her off.

"I can't imagine being friends with those two for as long as you have been. They're both so moody." Ginny watched as two butterflies danced around each other in the light blue sky; orange and black contrasting beautifully with the summer day.

"Harry always had a valid reason to be moody. Ron…" She trailed off. "I never thought of it that way, though. Is that what it looked like?" She stopped and looked over at Ginny. Ginny crinkled her eyebrows uncomfortable with the truth,

"Yeah. How were we supposed to know…you know?" She shielded her eyes to look at Hermione. She nodded and started walking again. "I can remember my roommates at Hogwarts trying to slyly ask me questions about Harry. They seemed to think I knew the inner workings of his mind and could explain why he'd explod at you or Ron." She left off with a dry laugh.

"He did stay with your family every summer. And he did date you. I'm sure they thought you were just keeping secrets." Hermione let her hair drop and stopped in the middle of the dirt road. "I don't want to go back in there. Things were so happy, even just for a little bit. I'm not ready for everything to become difficult again."

"You can go home. That's where I live." Ginny stopped as well and crossed her arms over her thin chest. Her home had never looked more unappealing. "Let's just sneak around the back and head to the orchard."

"Sure," Hermione shrugged and made a sharp turn to trudge across the thick grass. Each step through the tall blades caused a billowing cloud of pollen, gnats, and ladybugs to waft into the sky. Halfway through the back road to the orchard the stitch in her side became too much to bare.

"Let's stop here." Ginny panted. Her energy levels weren't quite up to par yet. She fell down into the grass with a groan. "I'm still so tired all the time."

"It will come back, don't worry. It was like that for me the summer after…" Hermione trailed off. Ginny rolled to her side, ladybugs fluttering past her ears, and pushed the tall grass aside to see Hermione biting her lip.

"After what?"

"The Chamber."

"Right, you were petrified." She let the grass curtain close again. "Sorry about that."

"It wasn't your fault."

"Well, I did open it. So it was my fault, but I know what you mean."

They both sat in comfortable silence, enjoying the bright sun still burning across the sky. Ginny realized this was what her summer was supposed to be like. This was what all her friends were doing. This is how everyone was celebrating. It made her uneasy. Too much peace made her anxious.

"You ready?" She asked Hermione.

"Yes." She sat up. The companionship she felt with Hermione intensified at that moment. She was feeling the same way. With a knowing look they both apparated directly into her room.

* * *

~*~

They hadn't been able to get away with it for very long. Her open door policy was still in effect, and a puffy faced Mrs. Weasley had stuck her head in,

"Ginny, I need some help with dinner tonight."

"Okay, Mum." She stood without hesitation. Hermione, knowing her offer of help would be useless, gave Ginny an apologetic look as she followed after her Mum. She should have known she would be doing all the grunt work, but a small part of her was still disgruntled by it. She silently took to washing all the vegetables and getting all the pots and pans ready, as her mother slowly started pulling out what she needed.

"So what is for dinner?" She cautiously asked. Her mother looked up, a bit dazed and slowly answered,

"Chicken, with some vegetables from the garden, mashed potatoes, salad, fruit, and the left overs."

"That's a lot of food for just us." She imagined the table and the forlorn faces staring at it all.

"Is it? You're right." She looked back down at the spices and flour. "I'm not feeling so well, love. Can you take over?" Her voice became thick with emotion and Ginny's heart seized in her chest. She was quickly at her mother's side and wrapped a supporting arm around her waist as the tears started to form in her eyes.

"Of course Mum. Let me help you."

Not that she was much help, but she tried to at least be a comfort as she guided her mother back up the stairs to her room. Hermione peeked through the door, but held back at Ginny's frown. Once her mother was alone in her room, free to let her emotions take over, Ginny continued up the flight of stairs until she reached Ron's door. Feeling a flair of boldness and a smirk of vengeance she kicked open the door without announcement and leaned into the room.

Ron and Harry dropped their exploding snap cards in surprise. She continued to let the smirk play across her face; Ron wasn't the only one that could boss people around in this house.

"If I'm not allowed to mope in my room, neither are you. Come help me make dinner." With that she turned on her heel and marched back down the stairs. Hermione was already in the kitchen finishing up the vegetables and pre-heating the oven.

"Are they on their way?"

"They better be." She laughed and started prepping the chicken. She had a bag of potatoes with Ron's name on it. She laughed to herself again and sprinkled some rosemary across the chicken.

"Alright," Ron grumbled. "What do you want?"

"Potatoes." She didn't even bother to look back at him. Hermione shifted her bowl of veggies so she was next to Ginny and started sprinkling them with spices as well. She gave her a sly smile as they both continued to listen to Ron's simmering rage. He was going to be mad at anything she told him to do, might as well give him the hard job.

"It's not that bad," Harry started and she heard him sit down at the kitchen table, and then the distinct sound of a bag of potatoes hitting the floor. "How many?"

"What do you think?" Ron grumbled. "The whole bloody bag."

Hermione couldn't seem to help herself, a giggle escaped her tightly pressed lips, but she quickly contained herself. Ginny felt herself starting to get giggly with power, she glanced over at Hermione, who was still shaking with silent laughter, she couldn't resist.

"You're moody today, Ron."

Hermione exploded with laughter and she joined in.

"Why's that funny?" Harry's voice floated over the laughter. Hermione was now wiping away tears from laughing so hard. She stumbled over to the stove and popped in the veggies.

"You two are quite chummy today." Ron grumbled.

"We've always been chummy, you just haven't noticed." Ginny haughtily snapped back and finished seasoning the chicken. She turned around for the first time to look at the boys.

The years of punishment and brownie points had paid off for Ron; he was already halfway through the bag. His wand twirling around in the perfect motion to make the potato look like it was peeling itself. Each naked potato was then chopped in half by Harry and then dropped into the enormous pot of water that Ginny had already set up on the table. Noticing that she had finally glanced over Ron shot her a nasty look and she stuck out her tongue. No use in making him explode, the potatoes were almost done.

"Where's Mum?"

"She wasn't feeling well. She's in her room." The admission caused the jubilant, giggling mood to quickly take a turn. Everyone settled back down into their tasks in silence. Ginny's mind couldn't help but wander. No one had heard from George. Bill had gone in to check on him and said that he was too busy to talk. It was true, the store was bustling, and he still had to get to the other before the end of the day, but Bill couldn't help but feel brushed off. George was avoiding this conversation, and with good reason. No one wanted to be reminded of their short comings when they were barely keeping it together.

Her father, over breakfast, had been the one to read off the owl from Bill. A disgruntled look had passed over Ron's face, setting him off into another mood this morning upon hearing that. Bill, Charlie, Percy, and her father all had wanted to help George, but they just didn't have the time. No one seemed to have the time except the four of them, trapped in the Burrow like prisoners. She couldn't tell if the disgruntled look was still the anger of the night before, or if it was because Ron realized he was the only one that could help, but they wouldn't let him.

She deduced she must have missed the conversation between her parents and Ron about his plans after the battle. She must have still been a zombie. But Hermione, Harry, and Ron all seemed to be stuck in a holding pattern, which involved Ron and Hermione sticking close to home, and Harry rarely leaving the house. She was her own beast of problems, but the three should have been out enjoying their victory, or at least getting on with their lives.

The coiled, twisted knot in her stomach clenched at that thought. She had avoided Ron for another reason today…Harry. Always the polite guest, the heated argument and bombshell of a confession had yet to be addressed. It was like it never happened, or at least that's how all three of them were acting. But her stomach remembered, and anytime some hint of the admission crossed her memory it would instantly cramp and remind her. With one hand over her tummy she grabbed the chicken pan and moved to the oven.

"We're done, can we go?" Ron's annoyed voice filled her mind as she opened the oven.

"Fine." She grumbled and bent over to shove the chicken in, next to the veggies.

It was at that exact moment that Ron had sent the enormous pot of potatoes levitating toward the stove. Out of the corner of her eye she saw it coming straight for her head, and instinct told her to duck. Unfortunately for her ducking meant throwing a hand out, and unfortunately for her hand the closest object was the open stove door. The pot landed on the stovetop with a crash, and she looked at her hand in awe for a few long seconds. The pain was so intense that at first she didn't feel it; she just realized that what she had done was bad. But as the shock wore off the scream built up from her lungs and she ripped her hand from the stove door, stumbling back into the wall.

Then it all happened very fast. Ron jumped up from the table, realizing what his sloppy magic had done. Hermione spun around at the sound of Ron's gasp, and Harry was already making his way over. He kicked the oven shut and pulled out his wand. She was holding the flaming palm close to her body, and saw the flash of idea cross his face. She started to shake her head but it was too late. His hasty thinking was going to create a disaster of epic proportions.

"Accio, potion."

"Harry, no!"

They both came out at the same time. She reacted before he could. Calling in all the strength and checking skills her brothers had taught her over the years, she shoved her shoulder deep into Harry's chest and pushed him to the floor. She faintly heard something pop over them as they crashed on top of each other, and then the potion bottles started flying into the room. They exploded from the pantry doors in the kitchen, they came hurtling from the living room, and she heard several breaking on their way down from the bathroom. Each bottle shattered with a spectacular explosion of glass and colored liquid on the kitchen wall. Those that had the unbreakable spell on them hit the wall and then bounced off of the shield around them. The potions started mixing and smoking, hissing and crackling with spectacular effect.

"Don't move!" Hermione shouted, her voice slightly muffled by the protective shield that she was still creating around them. The bottles continued to plunk against the shield or crash against the wall. Ron had jumped up from the table and was shooting out streams of water toward the hissing mess at their feet. Her hand burned against her shirt and she grimaced so not to let out a whimper of pain. The rest of her body started to catch up with her. The check she'd given Harry was making her shoulder throb, and since she didn't have two hands to brace herself she'd fallen directly onto her hip. To add a level of embarrassment to the situation she was trapped against Harry's body, her head very close to his belt, and his arm flopped over her head. It had to look horrible.

"Almost out!" Ron yelled over to Hermione, she nodded with concentration, continuing to trap them against each other on the hard floor. With a final shot of water the disaster came to a close and Hermione removed the bubble. She quickly rolled off of Harry, and clutched her still throbbing hand to her chest. Her free hand was now like a clamp on the wrist of her burning one. She knew she had to be cutting off the blood flow, but it was making the radiating pain lessen in intensity. Something sizzled by her feet and Ron ran over to stamp it out.

Harry jumped up from the floor and ran over to the sink, filling a bowl with cold water, ice cubes started falling from his wand into the bowl, and he grabbed it up. Hermione jumped in front of him,

"NO! Not ice!" She smacked the bowl from his hands; it went slopping to the floor. "It will damage the skin! Just water." She summoned the bowl back up, just as Ron realized what was going on. He jumped over her and raced up the stairs. Her hand throbbed again and she closed her eyes, tears starting to form. She heard her Mother's voice calling down from the landing, but if she opened her mouth now she wasn't sure what would come out: sobs, tears, screaming, or profanity. Ron came thudding back down as fast as he could.

"Ginny let me see your hand." She opened her eyes to Harry's voice and let go with her other hand, the pain immediately jumped up her arm and she squeezed her eyes shut as the tears streamed down her face.

"Got it!" Ron yelled and jumped over her body again. Harry grabbed her wrist and plunged her hand into the bowl of cool water. The relief wasn't instantaneous, or as much as she would have liked, but she was able to take a shaky breath.

"Ginny why are you," her mother started and the sputtered to a stop. "What happened in here?"

"Accident." Ron supplied and tossed the small red vile of Weeping Roses extract at Harry.

"I don't think 'accident' covers this level of damage, Ronald. Why is your sister on the floor? Is there something," She dropped off again and Ginny heard her Mother's dress dust against the floor. She turned toward her and opened her eyes, now making everything streaky with tears.

"Burnt my hand," she managed between her teeth. Hermione was next on the floor with a clean dishtowel. As Harry held onto her hand Hermione gently patted it dry.

"What is that?" Her mother's tone was quick and sharp. The feeling of relief was instantaneous. She sighed, letting her rigid body melt into the floor as the cool, soothing relief was lightly rubbed across her hot, throbbing hand.

"Why don't you just dump the whole thing on there?" Ron voiced standing above her.

"It doesn't work that way." Harry grumbled, continuing to slowly rub the potion into her hand.

"Where did you get this?" Her Mother's incredulous voice was next. She still had closed her eyes with relief, but now opened them again as he worked his way down toward her fingers. Without the veil of panic across her vision she could see the damage now. The wall of the kitchen, where Harry would have been standing, was black, and slightly smoldering. The stove, the oven, the floor, everything was covered in charred black ash and glass. But a small circle of gleaming kitchen floor was around her feet and her chest filled with gratitude. She would forever be grateful that Hermione was her friend. The floral scent of the potion started to mix with the smoldering ash and wreckage in the kitchen, with the tiniest hint of rosemary chicken and vegetables.

Hermione followed her line of sight and started to giggle, Ron looked at Hermione and then the carnage and started to laugh. Harry rubbed the last of the potion into her hand and then finally looked over at the destruction, the look on his face alone made the giggle start to form in her own chest. When Harry actually started laughing she couldn't hold it in any longer and laughed as well.

"Good job, Ron!" Hermione leaned over and gave him a shove.

"Thanks for that shield." Ron laughed, stumbling a little from the shove.

"Yeah, what were you thinking?" Ginny let out another loud laugh and shook her head at Harry.

"Potion, that's what I was thinking." Harry laughed.

"This is the man that defeated the Dark Lord?" She cracked up. "Potion?"

"It's so good to hear you laugh, Ginny." Her Mum voiced, and she looked over, the giggle dying on her lips. Streaked with tears and giving her a watery smile her Mum wiped at her face. "I haven't heard you laugh like that in such a long time."

The uplifting moment fizzled around them, ending with a crackling pop from one of the bottles in the corner. Would it always be like this? People reminding her that she had been ill, her family in tears, and any happy moment marred by grieving the loss of everything? She gave her Mum a tight smile and looked back at Harry.

"Thank you." She whispered and pushed herself from the floor. Once again, destruction and silenced family members were in her wake. She felt the anger boil in her blood, quickly dissolving any panic that was lingering. She left the kitchen and heard his footsteps behind her.

"Ginny." He was pleading. She couldn't turn around, if she did she'd explode on him, and he was only trying to help.

"I need to be alone." She stormed up the stair and closed her door behind her. She decided to inflict her rage on her pillows instead.

* * *

~*~

She could hear the small talk Hermione was trying to make at the dinner table. Her stomach grumbled with hunger but she ignored it again and changed her hair to pink. She was still far too angry to eat. Angry at Ron for being such an idiot, angry at Fred, angry at Harry for always being too helpful, angry at the world in general, but mostly she was angry at herself. She was the idiot that had ducked instead of deflecting the pot. She was the idiot that burnt her hand which set off the chain reaction of destruction. But, what had really gotten under her skin, what was causing her to sit on a bed of feathers with pink hair was that she couldn't control her reactions. Everything had been going fine, things were getting better, she was feeling better, but one small phrase from her Mum and she'd turned the kitchen somber. Like a succubus it seemed like she was eating all the joy from her household.

With an angry flick of her wand she had silky long black hair. The unnecessary anger burned through her. She didn't know who to be mad at; she didn't know if she was infuriated or depressed. Hadn't she just been laughing a moment before that? A real laugh, the first one she could actually remember since last year. Now everyone would think she was crazy again. She fell onto her bed, feathers flying up into the air and softly landing back on her. She wished they would bury her so she could disappear. Her stomach growled in protest and she fought the urge to punch it. She would control at least one feeling today, even if it was hunger.

Her door softly clicked open and she closed her eyes. Falling back on old tactics was almost unforgivable, but she was still vibrating with anger.

"Please don't hide in your room. I was starting to enjoy seeing your face around the house again. Aren't you hungry?" Her mother sat down on the edge of her bed.

"I'm too angry to eat."

"At who?" Her voice was so confused that Ginny sat up with a sigh to explain.

"Myself. I really thought I was better. But I'm not." She picked some feathers from her hair.

"You are better," Her Mum started and grabbed a piece of long black hair between her fingers. "Laughing and teasing your brother. Spending time with Harry. You are getting better."

"But it's always short lived." She grabbed a handful of feathers and tried to toss them aside. They gently fell back down to her bed.

"Well, that's true." Mrs. Weasley dropped the piece of hair she had been playing with. She looked around the bed and gave a disappointing frown to the feathers. "Maybe you should do something more constructive with your anger, dear. Destroying the things you own doesn't really accomplish much. You're still angry and now you don't have something to sleep on."

"Weasley temper, what can I say?" She flicked her wand and the red-orange hair was back. Her mother's face broke out in a smile and she gave her head a pat.

"Now will you come down and eat? I think they all went to Hermione's house for a visit tonight." She stood and offered her hand. With a nod of compliance she stood and followed her mother downstairs, leaving a swirling cloud of feathers in their wake.

* * *

~*~

Just as her eyes started to loose focus and slip into a boredom educed coma her mother snapped her back to attention. She started humming along to the wireless to another one of those horrible oldies that she loved to blast. Ginny's hands were starting to go numb from holding the yarn between them, but it had worked. She should have known. After dinner, instead of letting her stew in her feather filled room her Mother asked her to help her with her knitting. She had moved past the first piece of fuzzy pink baby clothes, and was now moving on to hats, socks, and mittens.

"Why mittens?" Her voice croaked out sleepily.

"So the baby doesn't scratch herself." Her mother clucked seeming to be disappointed that Ginny didn't know this piece of trivial information.

"Right," she yawned, and settled back down into the couch. She watched as the small piece of fuzzy baby pink yarn slowly started unraveling from the width of her hands. Over, and over, methodical, relaxing, she felt her eyes closing.

"I need you to go to Diagon Alley for me tomorrow."

"What?" She snapped back to attention, giving her Mother a wary glance.

"I seem to have lost several different potions since this morning." She continued to look down at her knitting. "I have no idea what has happened to them, but I need them to be replaced."

"Why me?" She grumbled down at the yarn.

"Because I asked." Her mother arched an eyebrow, almost daring her to see what would happen if she sassed back again.

"Can I at least bring one of _them_ with me?" She looked up, trying to give her best convincing smile. The thought of going into Diagon Alley alone was making her palms sweat. The fuzzy bits of yarn were sticking to her now.

"No." She set the knitting down and reached over to grab the yarn from her hands.

"But why? They were just as much at fault. Actually," anger started to boil again underneath the boredom educed haze the knitting had put her in. "This is all _their_ fault. So why am I being sent to clean up _their_ mess?"

"I said no Ginevra. End of discussion." She stood up and shoved the yarn into the knitting basket by her chair. "You will be up on time tomorrow, and you will get me what I need."

"Yes, Mum." She looked down at her hands, but the anger caused the words to come out disgruntled. Thankfully her Mother choose to ignore that and moved into the kitchen to start cleaning and repairing the mess that had been made. Ginny knew she should have stood up and helped, her Mum didn't need to do it all alone, but her now searing anger kept her glued to the couch.

She wiped her still sweaty palms across her legs and tried to focus on anything but the anger. The door opened and she was saved. Her mind immediately started thinking of how she could inflict her rage on her brother. He had sent the pot directly toward her head, and then stood like an idiot as Harry and Hermione jumped up to help. Yes, Ron was the reason for all this. She quickly shot off the couch and turned around to face the door.

Harry actually took a few steps back at the look on her face. She clamped down on her teeth as hard as she could, willing the anger to pool and wait for its intended victim.

"Where's Ron?" She hissed.

"In the kitchen helping your Mum." He cautiously moved across the landing to stand on the carpet of the living room. She took an angry breath and bite her tongue. So her Mother was already ten steps ahead of her, as always.

To call the history of sibling rivalry and bickering between her and Ron epic wouldn't be stretching. When they were children Mrs. Weasley had let the older brother's police it out. But as they all started to form their own lives, and go away to Hogwarts her mother soon found out that on any given day there would be some kind of fight.

"Alright," she managed. '_You win this time, Ron_' she thought murderously and moved around the couch to brush past Harry.

"Hey, wait." He grabbed her passing arm and all the anger plunged into her stomach, to be replaced with a burning fear. She didn't want to talk about his confession today. Not today, of all days. Not when she had seared off her hand, embarrassed herself, and destroyed her room for a second time this summer. She was not in any mood or mental capability to have a meaningful conversation. He was still holding onto her arm, and the fearful thoughts had made too long of a pause between them. Now it was just awkward.

"Yeah?" She took a deep breath and turned to look at him. His warm hand was burning into her skin with a tingling intensity.

"How's your hand?"

"Fine." She whispered. "Thanks."

They both looked down at her hand and Harry slid his own down to grab hers. He lifted it up closer to his face and examined it closely before entwining their fingers and dropping their hands. She felt her chest start to warm with the building blush. It was suddenly quiet and intimate in her family's living room. If she didn't say something soon they would have to talk about it.

"Why can't you leave the house?"

"What?" He was instantly confused and the panic forming in her chest broke apart at the look on his face. The blush started to subside as well, but he still hadn't let go of her hand.

"I have to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow, and my Mum won't let any of you come with me. But she wouldn't say why."

"Oh," he let go of her hand and looked down at the floor. "That."

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me." Remorse flooded her and she took a step away. The small movement made him look back up at her, his eyes burning with an intense fire of annoyance.

"Death Eaters."

"I don't…" she started, but dropped off as he nodded and continued.

"They're still after us. Well, after me. With the Aurora shortage it was just easier if I stayed undercover for a bit. It's the same reason Dumbledore sent me to live with the Dursley's the first time. That's why they haven't lifted the apparition ban on your house yet." He tucked some stray hair behind his ear and looked out the windows into the evening. "It's annoying for everyone, I'm sure."

"Not annoying." She moved closer and he looked down at her. "Not if it keeps you safe."

"But it's stalling everyone's lives. It's not like we couldn't take them, but now that the war is over your parent's want us to be safe. But the war isn't over, there are still Death Eaters out there, and they want me, but they can't find me, so they are destroying other people's lives out of spite. It will only be a matter of time." He dropped off broodingly. An ancient feeling, one she had tried to squash over the years filled her body, making her blood pound in her ears with its intensity.

Fierce protection, it built up over the years over little things, petty things. But right before the Department of Mystery's ordeal it exploded within her and she knew then, like she knew now, that she would never let anything happen to him. Not if she could help it. The thought of Death Eaters after him caused her body to react before her brain could catch up.

She grabbed his arms and pulled him closer, now only a breath away. He looked down at her with sudden surprise and then caution at the look on her face.

"Harry," her mind finally caught up. "Nothing is going to happen to you. Ever again." She waited until she could see it in his eyes, the understanding of the words she still wasn't able to speak. Her heart ached with love for him, so many different kinds of love that it caused her throat to constrict and she finished in a whisper, "I promise."

He instantly pulled her into a crushing hug. She wrapped her own arms around his waist and tried to squeeze back, but the effect must have been lost. She struggled to take a breath and barely managed,

"Can't breathe."

"Sorry!" He laughed and loosened his hold, but didn't let go. She squeezed him back and rested her head against his chest. She closed her eyes and tried to memorize the moment, one arm pulling her close to him, the other running through her hair, her heart swelling in her chest with the overwhelming feeling of love. Then he lowly whispered,

"Why are there feather's in your hair?"

"Right," she opened her eyes and sighed, "That."

Harry laughed again and continued to pull out the feathers her mother had missed.

"Do I even want to know?" She felt it rumble in his chest as she continued to press herself against him. She didn't want the wonderful moment to end, or be interrupted, but knew it was only a matter of time.

"I had a mishap with some pillows."

"Did they attack you? Or just spontaneously combust?" He continued picking out the white flecks in her hair.

"It was more like I attacked them." She pulled away from him and fixed him with a warning looking, "But that's between us."

"Spontaneous combustion, then." He nodded, showing her the handful of feathers. She blew them out of his hand and smiled. "Sorry you have to go to Diagon Alley alone tomorrow."

"It's fine," she shrugged and looked away.

"Do you want me to come?"

She smiled and shook her head no. The temptation was too great, and knowing now the reason he was being held prisoner was enough to keep him here. They wouldn't come after her; she didn't even look like herself anymore. But they would kill her if she was with Harry, and then kill Harry. '_The could try_,' she thought smugly.

"It won't take me that long." She leaned against the couch and distinctly heard her Mother telling Ron some parting words. He would be harassing them soon enough.

"Are you sure you're ready to do that?"

"Guess we'll find out. My Mum thinks so." She leaned forward a bit to pick a feather off his shirt.

"Ginny," he grumbled, annoyed with her callousness.

"It will be fine. I can always ask Neville to come along."

She snapped her mouth shut the second it slipped out. The relaxed atmosphere around them evaporated, and they both tensed. Harry at the mention of Neville, Ginny at whatever reaction was about to happen.

"If that's what you want." He backed up, away from her.

"Please," annoyance filled her again and she tried to battle with her flashing anger but it slipped out, "don't be like that."

"Like what?" He locked eyes with her, something dark and brooding crossing his features. Anger bubbled through her limbs, desperation clenched at her heart, but her mouth sassed back,

"He's my best friend. So what if I want him to come with me."

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to." She crossed her arms and they glared at each other. She felt it in the air; some line was about to be crossed. All these unspoken, unmarked, unmentioned lines that Harry had put up around them were flashing in the back of her mind. Instead of deflecting or ignoring it she took a big breath,

"What's your problem with Neville anyway?"

"I don't have a problem with Neville."

"He's afraid of you. What did you say to him?"

"Neville's my friend too. I didn't say anything to him."

"Don't give me that, Harry. Why he sending owls off to you when I show up? What happened in the hospital with all that Jello?"

"The Jello," he darkly laughed to himself, breaking their eye contact. She felt a line pulling taut against them. Something was about to snap. She didn't know if it would be good or bad, but it would be progress.

"Just say it."

His eyes snapped back to her, dark green with jealousy. She sucked in a short breath and felt the air crack around them, one line crossed, a line broken.

"You know why. Even if you don't want to believe it."

"I know now. It's not like that, and you know it. Neville is just my friend and only my friend." The air pulsed again, another line being stretched to breaking capacity.

"So what am I?"

Her heart thudded in her chest, terrified at where this conversation was going, but elated at the same time. She was trapped to the couch by his eyes alone. The mixture of emotions that pulsed through her made her head swim. She felt herself shrink against the magnitude of his presence. All that he had stood for over the years in her life, and what he had meant to her in the past two years competed in her brain for the winning answer. What he was then, and what he had become now were two totally different Harry's. But they felt inseparable. Like somehow the shame and frustration of her youth could never separate from the devotion and love he'd shown her now. He was always a part of her, would always be a part of who she was, he was…

"Everything."

She hung her head, embarrassed at the way it had finally made it out. She had sounded defeated, not at all the memory she wanted him to have of her confession of love. The feelings from her youth flooded her,

"You've always been everything to me. Even when I wasn't everything to you."

"I'm sorry." He croaked out.

"Don't say you're sorry. It is what it is." She felt the tears fill her eyes and angrily tried to blink them away, slightly turning from him.

"But I am sorry. I'm sorry it took this long for me to realize how I felt about you. I'm sorry I caused you all this pain. I didn't even know I was."

Another line crossed. She felt all the walls around them vibrate, about to crumble. The tears fell down her face, shameful tears not the depressed ones she had grown accustomed to. Would anything between them ever be normal? She couldn't even tell him she loved him without mucking it up.

"It's okay." She sniffled, still unable to look at him. He closed the space between them and pulled her back to his chest. She kept her arms wrapped defensively around herself, even as his own squeezed her closer. "You had more important things to worry about, Dementors and Death Eaters, and the Dark Lord."

"That rhymed." She felt a shake of laughter pulse through him. She shook her head; only Harry would find that funny. She relaxed into him, his shirt absorbing the tears on one side of her face. He started kissing the crown of her head and she sighed. Why couldn't it have always been this easy? Or was this just an isolated incident? A strange mix of emotions and place that made the truth easier to get out. Would tomorrow morning bring back the awkward and uneven timing of their forming relationship? Was it forming, where was it going, or was this it? "I want to go with you tomorrow."

"You better not. I think my Mum would spontaneously combust." She dropped her hands and pulled away from him.

"You're probably right." He smiled and leaned toward her landing a soft kiss on her forehead.

"On second thought, maybe you should. I'd love to see what kind of punishment she would give you." She raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to defy her mother. Harry placed his hands on both sides of her on the couch, trapping her against him, and then leaned forward to whisper in her ear,

"I don't think she would. But I'm not going to test it."

"Too scary for you?" She whispered back, their faces now touching.

"Only Dementors and Hungarian Horntails scare me."

"Then you haven't seen my Mum really angry." She whispered back.

"UGH! Please get off each other, it's making me ill." Ron yelled into the living room. They both turned to look at him and Ginny narrowed her eyes,

"Sod off you!"

Ron just crossed his arms and waited. Harry pushed off from the couch and gave her an apologetic shrug. The daring and impulsive side of her wanted to grab him, it wasn't fair that Ron was able to lay down laws like he was her mother. Granted Harry was just trying to pacify him, but it was a double standard. She politely ignored Ron and Hermione's gross display of affection time and time again, out of respect for Hermione. But the fact that Harry was more like a brother then a friend to Ron made the situation a little more heated. She wished they'd just get in a fist fight over it and be done with all the awkward interruptions.

She stomped past Harry, now upset, and made sure to throw a good elbow into Ron's ribs as she stormed up the stairs.

"What was that for?" He yelled after her. She slammed her door shut as hard as she could. Pictures rattled on her walls, and a large cloud of white feathers shot across her room at the burst of wind. With a smirk she swished her wand and banished the feathers to Ron's room. It wasn't enough, but it would do for now.

* * *

~*~

Author's Notes:

Special thanks go out to my husband on this one. He sat patiently while I tried to explain the history of the 'Ginny/ Harry' saga to help me move forward. Then nodded and said, "Well I think they should fight. That's what couples do." Oh how right he is!


	7. Chapter 7

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 7~

_I can't be her angel now._

_No it's not my place to hold her down._

_And it's hard for me to take a stand._

_I would take her any way I can._

_Neon by John Mayer_

* * *

~*~

She didn't sleep. Maybe there had been a few minutes when her exhausted eyes had slid shut for relief, but she would quickly pop them back open. She had watched the color of her walls change from black, to purple, to yellow, to white. It wasn't insomnia, she did want to sleep, she wanted to dream, and run over and over again in her mind what had happened. But one sentence sputtered all good thoughts to a screeching halt, 'Are you sure you're ready for that?' She knew she wasn't.

The back of her head and her neck ached from sleeping on Harry's balled up jacket. She had been too proud to let her Mum make her new pillows. It was only until after she left that she remembered she'd forgotten how to do it herself. With a tiny moan she sat up and looked out her window to the bright, sunny morning. Dread flooded her. She wasn't ready.

"Time to get up," Her mother loudly announced as she pushed open her door. "Oh, you're awake."

"Couldn't sleep," she yawned and felt her neck stretch and snap.

"At all?" Mrs. Weasley stepped into the room and apprised her daughter with a raised eyebrow.

"At all. Did you know the sky is only purple for about five minutes before it starts to change to yellow?" She stood and grabbed Harry's jacket to shake it out, it was horribly wrinkled now.

"And I see you didn't make any pillows either." Her mother hung her head and ran her hands over her face, "Ginny."

"It's okay Mum. I've just forgotten how. I should brush up on it anyway." She moved over to her closet to pick out which clothes she'd have to alter this morning.

"Ginny, you don't have to go. I don't think you're ready, not if you stayed up all night worrying about this."

"Mum," she turned around to face her. "If no one pushes me I'll never be ready. Ron was right." She swallowed hard, trying to squash the queasy feeling forming in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't ready, but she didn't have a choice anymore. That much her brain and her body could agree on. It was her pesky emotions that were messing with her resolve. It was just jitters, simple jitters. She'd felt them the first day of school, every Quidditch game, and now as she was picking back up her life.

Oddly enough she'd never felt jitters in the Underground, but she had left all the anxiety to Neville, he was better at worrying then she was. She smiled at the memory of her friend, and then frowned as his name brought up a new memory, of blazing, jealous green eyes.

"What's wrong, love?"

Ginny snapped her attention back to her Mum, her shirt hanging in her hands. She hadn't realized she'd tuned her out.

"Nothing, sorry."

"You're not going." Her mother shook her head and walked over to grab the shirt out of her hands. "No, no, no. You are not ready, you didn't sleep. I can't let you go."

She started pushing her over to her bed. With a flash of her wand several large fluffy pillows appeared, and with a final shove Ginny stumbled onto her bed.

"Mum." She started, but her mother was fluffing the pillows and pulling down the comforter.

"I should have known it was too soon."

"Mum," she grabbed her hands. "It has to be me. Who else can you send?"

"I'll think of something."

"I was the something. Everyone else is working, and we can't send Ron or Harry." She dropped her hold on her mother's hands and snatched the shirt off her bed.

"Now you agree with me? What's changed?" Her eyes narrowed.

"I talked to Harry last night." She threw over her shoulder and moved back over to her closet. She pulled out her pants and mumbled to herself, "As if you didn't already know."

"And he told you why he couldn't go?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't he?" She turned around and pulled her night shirt over her head to swap it out with her new shirt. It was horribly baggy, and she started tapping the fabric to shrink it down to size. Her mother had remained silent and she glanced over to see her looking up the stairs for a moment and then wringing her hands. "Unless he's still keeping secrets from me. Or you are."

"No secrets, love. Just Death Eater's. I'll go make you breakfast." She turned quickly and left the room. Ginny rolled her eyes and stumbled out of her pajama pants. Of course there were still secrets, she should have known. She wanted to believe that she was just reading into it, maybe her mother was worried for other reasons, but things had been kept from her for too long now to not have some suspicion.

Just as she was tapping her corduroy pants to fit Ron stumbled into her room. He fell onto her bed, pulled the covers up over his head and sighed,

"Finally."

"What are you doing in here?" She moved to rip the covers off his head, but he was already ahead of her, holding them down with an iron clasp.

"Harry wouldn't shut up last night."

"What?"

"Talking in his sleep, screaming in his sleep, rolling around, knocking over things. It was horrible. I've barely gotten any sleep, only six hours!" He grumbled.

"Is that normal? You didn't think to wake him up?" She finally managed to rip the blankets off him and fixed him with a disgruntled stare.

"So he can punch me in face? No thank you. He gets way too startled, I've learned my lesson. It's better to leave him to it. I've lived with it for years, but it was never that bad." He punched the pillow a couple times and closed his eyes. "Can you shut the blinds?"

She shot off a spell to make the windows open wider and left in a huff. Ron didn't even move and she heard snoring before she hit the bottom of the stairs.

"So I flooed George, and he said you can pop into the shop first and he can go with you if you'd like. There is a potion shop right around the corner from him. I think it would be a good idea." Her Mother shouted from the kitchen and then emerged with a plate full of eggs, bacon, toast, fruit, hash browns, sausage, and a glass of orange juice.

"Mum," she started gently as the plate was put down in front of her. "Still don't have much of an appetite, you've outdone yourself."

"Right. Well eat all you can, you should start trying to put on more weight dear, I could snap your bones with too tight of a hug." She gave her a light pat on the back, as if to punctuate her point, and moved back into the kitchen. Ginny sighed and picked up a piece of toast. She had a feeling she'd be getting a lot of that today.

* * *

~*~

"My favorite sister!" George called out over the chaos of the shop.

"Your only sister," she laughed and pulled him into a hug.

"I have a sister in law now. That's like a half sister. All of the teasing but none of the guilt." George ruffled her hair and she ducked out from under his hand. The shop pulsed around her. Children running up and down the isles, parents shaking their heads yes and no over the noise, a glazed expression in their eyes, teenagers grouping and giggling over displays, and one very frazzled girl in bright orange robes scrambling around trying to contain some of the larger disasters. The shop had always been a little overwhelming, but this was chaos, pure chaos. The uneasy feeling in her stomach bubbled again and she looked up at George. Purple bags still under his eyes, a fixed smile on his face, and a weary slump to his shoulders, nothing had changed. At least he didn't reek of booze like she had prepared herself for.

"Looks like business is good." She yelled over the noise and George shook his head.

"Won't be good for long, though." He grabbed her shoulder and maneuvered her through the crowd toward the back counter. Another bright orange employee was frantically ringing up customer after customer. George pushed her straight through to the very back of the store. She passed through a curtain and entered the workshop, which was bare. Nothing, there was absolutely nothing on the shelves, nothing he was working on, nothing boiling or brewing, squawking or chirping, fluttering or buzzing. It was silence, the only silence in the entire place.

"George," she turned around to look at him and he shrugged.

"Just thought I'd let you know."

"But why?"

"Well, if Mum let you out of the house it will only be a matter of time before she sets her sights on me. I have the advantage of being conscious and un-zombie like, so I'm ready for the onslaught." He crossed his arms over his chest and glared broodingly into the emptiness.

"Not why you're letting me know, what happened? Why is nothing here? Is it at the other shop? Did you buy space somewhere?"

He put a hand on her shoulder to stop her and shook his head. She felt the dread fill her stomach again,

"I'm closing shop, Ginny. Fred was the mastermind, in the end it was him that was making up all the new product lines. When we run out of stock at both the stores I'm going to close."

"You can't close! You can't!" She found herself shouting and backing up from him into the empty space. George looked at the ground between them and sighed,

"I can. I have to. I can't do this alone, it was always meant for two people to run it. We made enough capital in the first two years to pay Harry back, I have no debts now. It's time to close." He ran his hands through his still long and frizzy hair. Her mind halted at the mention of Harry, but she ignored it and moved back toward her brother.

"Let me help you. Let me run one of the shops. Let me and Ron do this for you. Maybe you need a break, George." She waited until he was looking at her, "I know I did."

"It's just not the same. Not without Fred." He pressed his lips together and cleared his throat quickly. She moved to touch him and he backed up. Sadness clenched her heart, for the brother they both had lost, and the brother she was losing now.

"It never will be. It will never be the same again." She whispered it, thinking George might not hear her, but he let out a shaky breath and cleared his throat again.

"Just don't tell anyone yet. I need some more time to get everything in order." He grabbed her shoulders and she looked up into his eyes, "And don't tell Harry."

"Why?"

"Just don't, Ginny. Do you understand?" His eyes were burning into her with something she had never seen before, some kind of darkness and pain that mixed with desperation.

"Okay. More secrets," she started, but held up a hand to stop him. "I won't say anything."

"I have to go." He sighed and forced the smile back onto his face. He turned the corner and he was gone. She waited a few stunned moments before pulling the curtain aside and making a bee line out the front door.

* * *

~*~

She entered the shop and stalled at the bottom of the small flight of stairs to get into the store by the doorway, hidden. She could have sworn she recognized at least one of the voices inside,

"Oh please! You are trying to tell me that everyone is still too traumatized by the war to come out for Quidditch? The tickets are free!" Katie Bell's voice hit her ears and she moved up the stairs, still attempting to be unnoticed. Katie leaned over the counter toward a blonde girl.

"You and I know that, but people are still holed up in their homes. The Ministry is re-building, they're trying to fill now vacant Aurora spots...everything is a mess." The blonde looked down at the check out counter.

"Maybe it's a mess, but look at this street! Look at all the people out. Go to any pub at 5PM and it will be packed with people, even families mind you!"

"Not like it would matter, half the school was gone by the end of the year, and Quidditch isn't worth watching at Hogwarts without Harry Potter as Seeker. I would have loved to see him play one more time." The blonde sighed and leaned against the counter; Katie just laughed and shook her head. "You don't think he'll try out for the pros, Katie?"

"I don't know. I would hope so. I wish the whole Wizarding world could see what we were privilege to. You never know with Harry." Ginny took this as her cue, she stepped further into the store.

"Speaking of Harry Potter, look who just walked in." The blonde whispered.

"Ginny Weasley!" Katie exclaimed and moved towards her. Ginny flinched and looked down at the floor ready for the worst possible reaction.

"Katie," she looked up and was pleasantly surprised. "I didn't know you work here."

"It's my family's shop, I don't actually work here, I'm just helping out Mary." She gestured towards her cousin and Mary gave a small wave.

"Oh, well that's nice." Ginny looked around the shop for a moment trying to remember how to carry on a conversation with normal people, not the small circle that had become her life. Her mind broke free of the panic and she managed, "So how have you been? How's your family?"

Katie took a good look at Ginny and she watched her face fall. She had been expecting it, anyone who would look at what she had been reduced to would be a little deflated, but it still stung her ego. Katie's eyes continued to pour over her, categorizing all the changes. She tried to keep the soft smile on her face, but the bright, shinning look to her friend's eyes was starting to dull. She started to fidget with the list in her hands.

"They're doing just fine. What about your family?" Katie asked the question with a softer tone, seeming to know that it was going to be a very touchy subject. A flash of anxiety made the list crumble in her hands.

"We're managing." She quickly mumbled and looked up past Katie at the back wall of the shop. Managing was not even the best case scenario for her family right now, but it was the answer she knew she had to give; it was the answer George was asking her to lie about.

"What about Harry? As gossip goes everyone is saying he's staying with your family." Katie formed a small smile on her face. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mary lean against a display, making it teeter on two of its legs. She looked up at Katie,

"Harry's fine."

That was all she offered. Katie laughed and held up her hands, trying to keep it light. She knew any more would cause that display to fall over and gossip to spread like wildfire. Katie noticed that her cousin was practically knocking over a shelf in her effort to eavesdrop on their conversation and gestured out toward the shop,

"So what brings you here Ginny?"

"My Mum sent me out for this list. Think you could help me out?" Ginny handed over the list to her and crossed her arms over her chest, Harry's still crumpled jacket swimming on her body.

"Why of course I could," Katie smiled at her and took a second look at the giant jacket. Her eyes zeroed in on the bright gold 'CAPTAIN' and she smiled very big. "Come over here and I'll show you all the new instant slow cook flavor's we have."

"Thanks, I'm trying to get this done as quickly as I can." She choose to ignore the smile, an almost knowing smile. She needed to be evasive if she was going to get out of here fast, no chit chat, no talking, just getting what she needed and getting back home.

Ginny followed her around the shop as Katie showed her product after product and sent it flying to the front counter after an okay. At one point Mary, the blonde, was hovering far too close, knocked over a display, and turned bright red as Ginny gave her a quick glance.

"Mary, why don't you start ringing up Ginny?" Katie offered.

"O...of course," Mary stammered and sprinted off towards the back of the store.

"Sorry, she's still young. She's going back to Hogwarts in the fall."

"It's alright," Ginny mindlessly answered as she read the back on a potion bottle.

"Did you hear about Quidditch starting up again?" Katie gave her another huge smile and waited for an answer before she would continue finding products. Ginny fished around inside her brain for any time she might have heard it. Then it dawned on her, the memory involved tears and Harry, most of them did,

"Harry told me about that. They are having free tickets, right?"

"Yeah, I can't wait. I've been waiting forever for a Holyhead game! You used to like them, didn't you?"

"Of course! I stood alone in my house on that one. Big Cannon's fans." She smiled and set the bottle down. "I think I'd like to go see a game. I'm sure Ron will drag Hermione to every single free one there is."

"If you'd like we could all meet up and go to one. They start next week. I think I could stomach at least one Cannon's game." Katie laughed.

"That sounds good," Ginny nodded her head and pulled the jacket closer to her. Comfortable with the easy topic, her conversation skills started to come back. "It'd be nice to hang out with some of my old Hogwarts friends. You could give Ron a good heckling!"

"I'm sure!" Katie grabbed the last bottle Ginny needed off the shelf and handed it to her. "Maybe we'll all get a drink after and have a round of 'Weasley is our King'!"

"Oh Merlin," Ginny rolled her eyes. "Don't! His ego is big enough to begin with."

"Those were some good seasons, eh? You did great as Chaser...and Seeker! Way to step up in the clutch there." Katie gave her arm a pat.

"It was nothing," Ginny smiled and looked down at the floor. "To tell you the truth, I was afraid Harry would stop talking to me if we lost! He gets so serious about Quidditch. I threw up in the bathroom before that game!"

"Oh he was a tyrant at times! Worse then Wood!" Katie laughed, she pointed at Ginny's jacket. "I remember seeing him swaggering around the castle with that jacket on."

"I'm sure he did." Ginny blushed and tried to re-situate the jacket to cover the 'CAPTAIN'. "I'm surprised Ron and Harry both fit in that dorm room with their egos."

"Are you going to finish out your terms? I mean you don't really count Death Eaters as teacher, right?" Katie leaned against one of the shelves. She seemed comfortable and at ease with the turn their conversation had taken, Ginny felt her stomach lurch and her throat dried up.

"I'm not sure yet. I haven't thought that far ahead. You know," she trailed off and looked back down at the packaging. Katie noticed the turn from their light banter to a dark place; she tried to brush it off.

"Not to worry, you're not the only one. But from the stories I've heard about the war I think they should give you a full pass anyway." Katie moved away from the shelf and took a step towards the back counter. Ginny quickly started to follow her.

"I would hope so. We'll see."

They walked in silence to the counter, to find a bored Mary tapping out different nail polish onto her fingernails. Mary quickly stumbled around and started putting Ginny's things into a bag.

"Is that it?" Mary smiled a little too eagerly at Ginny.

"Just this last thing." She put it down onto the counter. Katie handed her back the list,

"I was serious about that Quidditch match. We should all go. It would be like old times. Invite your brothers..." Katie dropped off and an awkward silence filled the store. "I'm sorry, I didn't..." She started but Ginny looked up at her and plastered the smile onto her face, she had to brush it off, keep the pain a secret.

"No, it's okay. I think they'd all like that." She put down some money on the counter and Mary wordlessly rang her up. Katie gave a few hard swallows.

"Of course. Well send me an owl Ginny." She finished in the quiet tone their conversation had started in.

"I will," She gave a blank smile to her and Mary. "Thanks for all your help." She grabbed her bag and quickly left the store. Still not ready to apparate home she hung onto the door and heard Mary squeal,

"So you think she's dating Harry Potter?"

"Yeah. They were together before he left last year. She was wearing his jacket." Katie blandly answered.

"Please let me go with you Katie! If you get to go with all the Weasley's and Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter! I would be the coolest person I know, Jessica would be so jealous. Didn't you date one of the Weasley's for a while? I want to say it was Fred."

"It was George. I dated George Weasley." There was a long pause. "Angelina dated Fred. They were both..."

"I'm sorry Katie...I didn't mean to upset you. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay Mary. I'm going home." She heard a pop and then,

"Everything's still a mess."

* * *

~*~

She started banging open drawers and cupboards as loudly as she could, hoping that if she made enough noise she could force Ron awake. After everything was put away he was still snoring, so she just grabbed the few bathroom potions and moved up the stairs. She kicked the door open and Ron did not even flinch.

"Stupid git," she grumbled.

"Hi, Ginny."

She spun around from her glaring to see a weary looking Harry. The largest potion slipped out from under her arm and bounced around on the floor. Harry had his hand stretched out but had missed it by a fraction of a second. His eyes were fixed to the bottle, confused.

"Unbreakable charm. I bought all the replacements in unbreakable bottles."

"Smart." He absently answered and looked up at her.

"I've been known to be on occasion." She reached down to grab the bottle and he shook his head, trying to clear out the cobwebs.

"That's not what I meant. It didn't come out right."

"Harry," she stood back up and smiled at him. "I know. Maybe you should go back to sleep. You don't look so good."

"Maybe you two should take your conversation somewhere else." Ron grumbled and threw a pillow into the hallway at them. She just shook her head and moved toward the bathroom to put everything away. The morning flashed across her brain, shots of Angelina and knocked over displays, but mostly it was George. She shoved the bottles into place and stormed back toward her room. Harry had already disappeared into the house, but Ron was continuing to attempt to sleep.

"Up you!" She shouted and ripped the blankets off him. Ron twisted and turned around, confused and disoriented.

"Agh! Why?"

"We have a shop to save." She spat at him and ripped the pillow out from under his head.

"What? Who?" He finally sat up and gave her a bleary look.

"Who do you think?" She crossed her arms and gave her best impression of her mother. Ron rubbed his eyes and shook his head, disapprovingly.

"He was drunk this early in the morning?"

"First, it's the afternoon. Second, he wasn't drunk. Stone cold sober in fact."

"Then what's the problem?" He stretched above his head, revealing perfect circle sized scars puckered across his stomach, as well as a smattering of older scars from all the scrapes he'd been in over the years. Her fluttering mind tried to remember to ask Neville for more of the potion, but she knew it would be lost as she had this conversation with Ron. She was getting better, she had survived the trip to the store, but she still couldn't keep everything in her brain at once, like she used to be able to.

"George told me something today. He told me not to tell."

"And you are? Remind me never to tell you secrets."

"Shut up. He's closing the stores." She finished in a whisper. Ron's mouth fell open for a good minute before he shook himself out of the shock and in one solid movement went from the bed to standing to at her door.

"I've got to tell…"

"You can't tell Harry. I'd like to keep one promise today." She grabbed his arm and pulled him into the room shutting the door behind him.

"He asked you to promise that, hu?"

"You seem to know the reason why as well." She squeezed his arm with frustration. "No more secrets, what's going on?"

"It would be too embarrassing, and Harry'd want to help again."

"How did he help in the first place?" She let go and moved away from the door.

"Money. Blood money really. I'm surprised it wasn't cursed money."

"Back up," she shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to keep up with it all. "Why was it tainted money?"

"Harry gave Fred and George his Tri-Wizard money. The money Cedric Diggory died for."

"He didn't die for it." She snapped out. "He was murdered, and not because of the money. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time." She looked away, the memories of that day attempting to flood her. The excitement, the panic, the terror, and the pain. Physical pain had pulsed through her that day as she watched her mother comfort a hysterical Harry. The only time she'd ever seen him cry.

"At any rate, Cedric died, Harry won, and he didn't want nor need the money so he gave it to them so they could start the joke shop. If George were to tell Harry now that he was closing shop the reason he gave them the money wouldn't matter anymore. He wanted them to make people laugh, like they had always been able to do for him. George is probably assuming that Harry's assuming it's a money issue, and he is too proud to ask. It's not a money issue, right?"

"No. He said it was always meant for two people to run. He doesn't think he can do it alone anymore. Which is why we have to come in. It was always meant to be family, Ron. It's Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. It has to be another Weasley. If you're not going to do it, then I will."

"Did I ever say I wasn't?" He opened the door and moved out into the hallway. "I'm going over right now, before that stupid git makes any more bad decisions." With that he ran up the stairs and left her stunned in the hallway. She hadn't seen him move that fast in a long time. She picked up the pillow in the hallway and started making her bed. It would be better to sleep in it, but she still had some leftover anxiety. She sat down on her bed, the high afternoon sun creating not a single shadow in her room, and heard Ron thump down the stairs. He clamped both hands on either side of her doorjamb and leaned into the room.

"Anything else I need to know?"

"No." She looked at him momentarily and they both nodded at each other. This needed to be done, Death Eater's be damned. He leaned out and stomped down the stairs,

"Oi, I'm out. 'Mione and I are meeting up for some lunch. You should get some sleep mate." Ron called out to Harry, and with pop he was gone. She was suddenly and acutely aware of the fact that she was alone in the house with Harry. Her Mother had entrusted Ron to be on his typical watchdog behavior, she hadn't factored in George.

She heard Harry pacing back and forth in the kitchen before he stopped and then started up the stairs. Her pulse quickened with each step he took, it was excitement mixed with anxiety. She felt the fatigue throb in her limbs, but ignored it. He paused at her door and then knocked. She couldn't stop the laugh; it came out with her response,

"Come in."

"What's so funny?" He entered and swayed a little to stand before her.

"We're the only people here. You don't have to knock, Harry." She smoothed out her blankets and gave him a smile. It was meant to be an invitation, but Harry just gave a few long blinks. Apparently sleep deprivation made him a bit dull.

"Right."

"Any reason you didn't sleep so well last night?"

She felt her own sleep deprivation pulse through her but shrugged it off again. Sitting on her bed had been a mistake. All she wanted to do was lay down and sleep.

"Nothing new. Same old reasons." He evaded and looked around her room. Her chest flared at the lie. After everything they had been through in the past few months he still felt like he needed to lie. It hurt more then anything, she'd never felt the need to lie to him.

"Right." She bit out and glared out the window.

"What?"

She turned back to look at him, annoyance across his features.

"I don't know what the old reasons are, Harry."

He clenched his jaw and looked down at the floor, debating. She could have made a guess, and she was confidant that she would be right, but that would be beside the point, and she was sick of the lies. It was rude, her manners were screaming at her, but if he was allowed to be in a bad mood, so was she. After a few more tense moments of silence she sighed and broke it,

"Fine. Don't say anything. I'm too tired to play these mind games today."

"What mind games?" He crossed the room to stand in front of her, arms crossed over his chest, staring down at her. She sat up straighter on her bed, bucking against the obvious intimidation that was pouring off of him.

"All these invisible lines you've drawn around us. I can ask some questions but not others. I feel like I barely know you. Maybe I was being unobservant before, but you're not exactly an open book."

"There are no lines. This is it, this is me."

"No," she interrupted his train of thought. "What were your nightmares about?"

"Death Eaters chasing me, being possessed by Voldemort, Dumbledore dying, Hermione being tortured, is that what you wanted to hear? You want me to rehash what I already don't want to remember? Because I wish every single night that when I close my eyes I don't have to relive it all again, but I do. I'm sorry if I don't feel like talking about that."

She was stunned. Those didn't sound like nightmares, more like flashbacks. If that were the truth then he wasn't sleeping at all.

"I…I…" she stuttered, unable to find the right words to show concern, worry, and her regret for asking.

"Don't say you're sorry. You wanted an answer." He dropped his arms and started to walk away.

"Well don't leave!" She snapped out of it, pushed off from her bed and grabbed his arm. "I feel like I'm finally starting to understand. We don't have to talk about it anymore, but don't leave."

"I'm really tired, Ginny." He pleaded, still pulling slightly toward her door.

"Then sleep here." She tugged against his hand, he barely moved. "Don't go hiding up in Ron's room. Not when we're the only ones here."

They both looked down at her hand, the silence of their first moment of privacy burning in her ears. She had to be blushing, but she couldn't take her hand away. "I'll just read or something, I don't want to be alone. Really, just sleep on my bed. I seem to be the only one who hasn't today."

He gave her a wary look, but moved to sit on her bed. She let his arm go and quickly shuffled through her desk for any kind of reading. She wasn't much of a reader, having a lot of brothers tended to lean her toward sports and mischief, but Hermione had left some kind of muggle novel at her desk. She picked it up and turned around. Harry was sitting on her bed, he glanced at the sheer size of it, and they both said at the same time,

"Hermione."

She sat down next to him and opened it up, trying to act causal even though her heart was thumping.

"Have you read this before?" He leaned closer to her to look at the first page.

"No. I don't really read." She whispered. Harry chuckled and then pulled back to lean against the wall. He closed his eyes and said in a low voice,

"Really, I can go. You shouldn't waste the day watching me sleep."

"You did it for months with me. Let me return the favor."

He nodded and let his hands fall to the bed. With a few deep breaths he started to relax, but she found it hard to believe that anyone could sleep sitting up. Well, other then Ron. She reached over and tugged his hand, his eyes slid open and she tugged him again.

"I don't bite." She laughed, and with a sleepy nod his head fell into her lap. She positioned the pillows around them and settled down. Within a few minutes he was asleep. She looked at the muggle novel in her hands, her eyes only made it past the opening line,

'In a broad valley, at the foot of a sloping hillside, beside a clear bubbling stream, Tom was building a house.'

* * *

~*~

_With black hair flowing behind her like a dark river she ran through the halls. She spotted the sandy blond hair and snatched his arm, carrying him through the littered tiny groups of huddled students. Neville looked over at her for a moment but didn't say anything; they stealthy made it up to the Room of Requirement and sealed off the door behind them. Once she heard the strong locks she let the panic kick in. Her hair started coming through splotchy red and black, she buried her hands in her face and tried to catch her breath._

_"Ginny?" His voice seemed to echo in the war room. "Just tell me. What is wrong?" His big, warm hands gently cupped her shoulders and she finally took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes._

_"They found out. They found out Ron is with Harry."_

_"But no one knows where they are, so he's safe." Neville squeezed her shoulders to try to punctuate the positive aspect of the horrible discovery._

_"But I'm not." A deep sorrow filled her chest, and for the first time in a very long time she felt close to tears. "My family is not. I have to leave."_

_Neville nodded once and then pulled her into a crushing hug to his chest. She wrapped her arms around the most unlikely best friend she'd ever had._

_"It will be fine Ginny. Don't worry."_

_"We know they'll come after us to get to Ron. But none of us know where Ron is." She heard her voice break, and bit her lip to stop the tears that were threatening. She had to be strong; she didn't want his last memory of her and the Underground to be tainted with tears._

_"Do you leave tonight?" He finally let go and gave her a sad smile._

_"No, this weekend, for Easter Break. I'll leave with everyone else." She felt the first tear roll down her face and she angrily wiped it away. "I'm sorry Neville. I'm so sorry. You know I would stay, you know I would just hide it out. But my Dad, my Dad is asking and I…"_

_"Ginny," he interrupted. "I want you to leave. Your safety is more important to me then anything else. You can't stay here, not with all these Death Eater's and Snape in charge. It's too dangerous now. It was dangerous before, but they could take you from your bed here. You have to go." He pulled her in for another hug, and she hugged him back, as hard as she could._

_"I'm leaving you at the worst time. We're finally getting some progress." She grumbled into his robes._

_"I have Seamus now, don't worry. We can handle it." He squeezed her again and then let go. "I'm going to set up a schedule with them for the last three days. Someone needs to guard you, and your room. We won't have another Luna situation."_

_"You can't guard my room; no boys can go up the girl side." She huffed and felt another wave of panic hit her. She hadn't though about them kidnapping her in the last few days. Everyone had tried to repress the kidnapping of Luna since Christmas; she was still upset about it._

_"You're right. You better stay in our room then. You can sleep in Ron or Harry's beds, they're still empty. Seamus and I can switch off nights." He reached across and picked up a piece of her red-black hair. "You better concentrate for the last few days. We can't have this Weasley red seen around Hogwarts."_

_"I can't remember the last time it was red for an entire day." She sighed. "I have to go. Everyone is expecting me for a study group. Not like it matters."_

_"I'll see you tonight." He tugged her hair just the slightest bit and she slapped at his hand and smiled at him._

_"Take your pick." Seamus gestured to the two empty beds and sat down on his own. They had waited until the entire common room had gone to bed. It wasn't uncommon for the four of them to be huddled in a corner, planning and plotting away. Most of the Gryffindor's left them alone, unless they had news or information to give. She had fallen asleep in the armchair for a good twenty minutes before Neville had woken her up._

_She looked between the two beds, not knowing who had slept in which. A wave of sadness filled her again. They were placeholders of solidarity, reminders of how much more they could have been giving to the cause, suffered for the cause, lost for the cause. Her heart ached for her brother, now in more danger then he had ever been. But her spirit wept for Harry. The unknowing figure of strength for the Underground, the unspoken hero even in absence, his empty bed meant more then just someone who had left the school. It represented so much of who he was, but the black, hardened part of her heart knew it could also represent that he would never come back._

_She heard Neville come in from the bathroom and stand behind her. She wanted to sleep on Harry's bed, just to feel what it must have been like for him. Maybe if she slept there it would bring some kind of comfort, some kind of courage to face the remaining days, the remaining weeks, possibly the remaining years. She could feel their eyes on her back._

_"Harry slept on the bed to the left." Neville lowly informed her, he moved to his own. She could still feel them behind her, waiting to see which one she would choose, like it would have some ulterior meaning. She choose Ron's bed instead._

* * *

~*~

"Ginny," she heard the whisper in the back of her sleeping mind. "Ginny, wake up!" She choose to ignore it, and squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to make whoever it was go away. She felt a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. "Ginny, please wake up."

She cracked open an eye to see a mountain of bushy brown hair. Internally she sighed, she didn't have the energy to deal with Hermione, she was finally sleeping.

"What?" She grumbled back. Hermione's brown eyes met hers; a slight flicker of panic crossed them.

"You need to get up. Ron's going to be back soon." Hermione continued to whisper.

"So what?" She grumbled and managed to open her other eye. With an arched eyebrow Hermione looked down. Her brain cleared of sleep and she remembered where she had fallen asleep, and who was still snoring on her lap.

"I can't move."

"I know, he rarely sleeps, it seems like a crime. But Ron will literally explode." She hastily whispered.

"No, I can't feel my legs. They've fallen asleep." She whispered back. She looked out at the twilight across her yard, the final gasps of the sun lighting the sky in brilliant orange and red tones, mixed with the coming night. "What time is it?"

"Late, about six or seven. You're family is going to be back soon." She stood up and grabbed Harry's arm. With a bit of a grunt she pulled him off her lap and Ginny managed to wiggle her way to the floor, her legs tingling with horrible intensity. Hermione gently set Harry back down on the bed and smiled at her.

"How did you…" Ginny started.

"When he's passed out like that you can do almost anything to him." She grabbed Harry's sleeping arm and raised it way above his head, it fell limply onto his side with a smacking sound, Harry didn't even move. "Insomnia will do that to you. Once you finally fall asleep you're dead to the world." She smiled at the still sleeping Harry and then offered a hand to help Ginny up.

"I don't even want to know how you found that out." Ginny hissed between her teeth as she limped to her chair. Her feet were like pins and needles.

"Seven years of hospital stays. Ron actually was the one to figure it out. He showed it to me one night to cheer me up." She laughed out loud. Ginny looked over at Harry but he was still fast asleep. "Don't worry; he won't wake up until tomorrow. I'll levitate him up to his bed later. How are your legs?"

"Better, it's taking some time. I think we were asleep for a couple hours." She tried to move her toes around and cringed at the uncomfortable feeling.

"This was the first time I've ever arrived and no one answered me. I was actually quite nervous at first. Left over jitters I suppose. It would always get quiet before something bad would happen." Hermione frowned, her eyes far away. Ginny nodded in agreement. She looked at Harry, his glasses crooked on his face, wild hair, his body sprawled across her tiny bed, and she internalized her sigh. She really wished Hermione would have stayed home; she wanted nothing more than to sleep on that bed, with or without Harry on it. She felt Hermione watching her and broke her gaze,

"We should let him sleep."

Hermione offered her hand again and the two thumped down the stairs to wait for the rest of her family to arrive.

* * *

~*~

_There was still snow on the window ledges, and hanging in clumps on the slatted roofs of the towers. The air was clean and fresh, even though it still felt foreboding. Dementor's around 24 hours a day would do that to you. But it was the particular color of the sunset in the brief moment of light that had flashed the idea across her mind. Images of Fred and George danced across her mind and she found Neville in the Herbology gardens._

_"Spray paint?" He eyed her cautiously._

_"Yeah, or something like it."_

_Neville dug deep into the soil, his face tired and worn out. It had been a rough couple of weeks for the Underground. More and more students were being taken, or tortured, or both, moral was low._

_"Would it be worth it, Ginny?"_

_"Of course it would. Just think about all we've done so far, think about how each tiny victory has boosted moral, brought more people to our cause. I think it's time to step it up a notch." She crossed her arms over her chest and flicked her dark brown hair over her shoulder._

_"Where are you going to get something like that?" He struggled with something in the soil and then yanked it out as hard as he could. It was slimy, slithering, and a putrid color of green. Ginny recoiled back from it,_

_"Let me worry about that. Are you in or out?"_

_"You have to ask?" He gave her a patronizing look and then slammed the creature down onto the counter; it made a horrible crunching noise._

_"Right, I'll see you tonight." She quickly turned to leave before she could find out what Neville was planning on doing with the now dead green sludge._

_She showed him the incantation she'd found in one of her books while they were in the war room that night. They were both in their non-descript robes, Neville with blonde hair, she trying to get a color of black that would make her blend in more. Neville just shook his head at the absurdity of it and then took a deep breath,_

_"Ready?"_

_"We have to be silent, I'm not kidding. They might kill us for this one."_

_"What are you going to write?"_

_"You'll see." She whispered and exited the Room of Requirements. They snuck through the castle under the cover of night until she found the wall she was looking for. The hallway most used by students to get to all their classes. Neville stood guard as she mumbled the incantation and quickly scrawled out over the ancient stone:_

_Dumbledore's Army Still Recruiting_

_"You're insane!" Neville whispered._

_"It will be worth it." She whispered back, and then they split up to take opposite ways back to the common room._

_She was right. The next morning it was all anyone would talk about. The look on Snape's face at the breakfast table had made her smile for the first time in months._

* * *

~*~

"Right, Ginny?"

"She's asleep, leave her alone."

"She shouldn't be sleeping, it's only nine!"

"Ron, shush! Can you not pester your sister for once in your life?"

"You obviously don't have siblings."

"You think?"

Ginny heard a smacking sound and smiled. She didn't want to open her eyes yet, it was better to have them think she was asleep.

"If Ginny and Harry are both sleeping…" Ron dropped off.

"Don't you start." Hermione tried to sound annoyed, but Ginny detected the slightest hint of playfulness. So did Ron.

"I'm not starting anything you didn't already want."

"You know what I want?" Hermione's voice dropped to a whisper and Ginny suddenly felt very, very uncomfortable. This needed to stop.

"I want the two of you to go take it somewhere else. And maybe Ron should go take a cold shower." She turned around on the couch to see their bright red faces. "A very, very cold shower."

"Told you she wasn't sleeping." Ron grumbled. Hermione just continued to turn almost tomato red, embarrassed into silence.

"I thought you'd both know by now when I was faking it." She turned back around and stared up at the ceiling. "Harry always knows."

"Well, I'm sorry I didn't spend every waking minute of my day watching you sleep. Maybe I'd be able to tell the difference then too." Ron snapped. "I think the part of your brain that remembered manners was damaged when you were all cracked up."

"Ron." Hermione's soft voice warned. Ginny didn't even bother to turn around. She had really stung his pride, and managed to embarrass Hermione at the same time. The sister part of her felt victorious, the friend part of her was embarrassed. Both were too tired to care, unfortunately for Ron.

"I think the part of your brain that could learn_ tact _was damaged since birth. Maybe you were dropped as a baby."

"Not my fault you're still a stubborn ice queen."

She sat up at that comment.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Hermione bit her lip, still pink around her cheeks. Ron had never gone back to normal color the embarrassed red had quickly turned into an angry red.

"You know. Don't make me say it, it's awkward enough already."

"Ron just let it go." Hermione whispered again, her voice a little shaky with worry. Ron ignored her and fixed his angry glare onto his sister.

"I won't just let it go. I'm not going to feel awkward all the time and have both of them miserable around me. Do I really have to spell this out for you?"

"No. And for the record I've never been a stubborn ice queen. I've had more boyfriends then you've had girlfriends, and I was more popular then you." It felt petty coming out of mouth, but as her temper flared she couldn't stop it.

"Subjective popularity!" Ron shouted.

"And your's was by association! I was popular all on my own." She went for the kill. Ron stood up off the couch, now turning purple with rage. She stood on her own, arms crossed over her chest. Both vaguely aware of Hermione biting her nails, now white with fear.

"Oh…oh…no you weren't. You were popular because you were my sister, you were popular because of who your family was. You were popular because you had too many boyfriends!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" She shoved him.

"Nothing!" He shoved her back. She stumbled a little and then lunged at him. Ron was caught by surprise and they both took a few tumbling steps, now fused together. She bumped against the coffee table in an attempt to free her hands to shove him again and knocked over the candy dish and magazines all over the floor. Glass and paper hit the fireplace with a spectacular crash, providing the distraction she needed to break free. She focused on punching him repeatedly in the ribs. Ron was trying to block her, holding her arms and hands, but she kept managing to wiggle her way out.

"Please stop! Please stop!" Hermione was yelling over their cursing and shoving as they continued to fight against each other. She managed to get in a few more good punches before she was ripped off of him, still kicking and swinging at Ron. She felt her arms being pinned to her body and then being set firmly on the ground.

"What happened?" Harry's still tired voice came from behind her. She struggled against him but he kept her close and restrained.

"She's insane! That's what happened!"

"Old news!" She spit back at him. "Ron called me a scarlet woman!"

"No I didn't!" He yelled, grabbing his ribs. She tried to move out of Harry's hands again but he squeezed her tighter.

"Hermione?" Harry asked calmly. Hermione swallowed hard and then offered,

"I think it was just a little sibling rivalry. They both said things they didn't mean."

"Whose side are you on anyway?" Ron grumbled and dusted off his shirt. He shot Ginny a dirty look and she pushed against Harry's hands again. Hermione bit her lip and then quickly took off out of the living room.

"Look what you did now jackass!" Ginny yelled. Ron looked at Hermione's fleeing form with a moment of confusion.

"Ginny be quiet." Harry ordered. Ron clenched his jaw and then glared at Harry.

"Good luck with that one," he poked a hard finger into her chest. "She might not be worth the trouble."

The anger boiled in her blood, she felt white hot fury pulse through her limbs, she was about to kick Ron as hard as she could when Harry darkly warned,

"Watch it."

Ron blanched for a second and then stormed off. The anger quickly pooled at her feet and she stopped struggling against Harry's hands. She hadn't expected that little exchange. Normally Harry was quite neutral when it came to these little battles between Ron and herself. She took a deep breath, trying to signal that he could let her go now, but at that exact moment Mrs. Weasley stepped through the front door,

"Sorry I'm so late everyone. Mrs. Weatherby is having a difficult time rebuilding her…what happened in here?" She questioned Ginny and Harry. She looked back and forth between the mess all over the floor, and the two of them.

"An argument." Harry supplied.

"With you?" Mrs. Weasley was genuinely surprised.

"No, with my sodder of a brother." Ginny spit out.

"Watch your tongue!" Mrs. Weasley quickly reprimanded. "I should have known, the two of you and your tempers, you've never been able to get along."

"His temper! He can't control his, he always provokes me!" She argued back, trying to wiggle out of Harry's still iron clad hands.

"Enough!" She snapped. "You know what to expect tomorrow morning."

"What? Why do I have to keep doing the punishments for his crimes?" She tried to elbow Harry in the ribs, sick of his calm restraints, she was furious and his holding her still was only throwing fire onto the situation. He pulled her up against him and she stopped struggling, it was no use, he was stronger.

"Maybe if you would learn your lesson the first time I wouldn't have to continue to punish you. You need to watch your mouth young lady, it gets you into more trouble then you need. If you continue to be rude to your family and friends then I will continue to punish you. I _will_ get manners through your thick skull, even if it takes making your hands bleed. You'll learn." She shook her head, disappointed. "Clean up this mess."

She left the living room to go upstairs. Ginny hoped it was to find Ron, but she knew better. Ron wouldn't be punished unless he was caught holding the gun, it had always been that way.

"Are you done?" Harry's voice rumbled against her back.

"Yes." She sulked and he released her then promptly sat down on the couch. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and let out a long breath. She looked at the mess and then flopped down onto the couch next to him. "Hermione said you'd be asleep until tomorrow."

"I don't know if it was the shouting, or the breaking glass, but it woke me up." He yawned.

"You should have just let us have it out."

"And have to go back to the hospital?" He sighed and settled down further into the couch, his eyes still closed.

"If you would have heard what they were saying you would have done the same."

"So it was your fault?" He cracked open an eye to look at her.

"You can't give fault to someone who was trying to protect their mind from vulgar images." She shuddered and Harry smiled at her. "It was about to be disturbing."

"Oh, I'm sure it was." Harry nodded closing his eyes. She heard Ron pleading with Hermione somewhere upstairs, lots of pleading. She had only meant to dig into Ron, Hermione had been collateral damage. Now she had everyone upset again because of her. She'd rarely heard Harry sound so mean. She rubbed her chest where Ron's finger poke was still throbbing.

"Do I have to say it in a different language? I'm sorry!" Ron's voice exploded into their quiet living room.

"Sorry is not acceptable. Your anger is too much Ron!" Hermione dismissed him as she went for her jacket. Harry opened his eyes, and Ginny leaned against him so they could peak over the couch at the coming exchange.

"You've known I had a temper since you met me. Nothing has changed." Ron clenched his fists trying to remain calm.

"I said anger, not temper. A temper I can deal with. You're too angry." She shrugged into her jacket. "I think I know why."

"Please don't say Fred, Hermione."

"It's the truth. You need to deal with this, Ron, or it's going to eat you alive. I won't stand by and see you getting into fistfights with your sister because you can't control your anger."

"Temper! Ginny provoked me! She always does! This isn't about Fred. She embarrassed us both, she set off my temper." He grabbed her arms. "Please don't go."

"I've said my peace. You've known how I felt about this. I'm already stressed out about my parent's, Ron. I can't handle all this moody behavior from you too."

"I'm not allowed to be moody?" He let go, his face changing to the slightest pink. "I live in a house with two people SO moody that I'm practically wet with it. It drowns me constantly. I'm sorry if that has rubbed off a little, but it's exhausting."

"I'm here just as much as you are. Don't give me that." Hermione snapped. "You can't talk your way out of this."

"Or what?" Ron chased after Hermione as she stalked toward the front door. Ginny and Harry both resituated on the couch so they were turned around to watch him chase after her. "Or what?" Ron yelled out into the dark front yard, but everyone knew Hermione was already gone. Ron slammed the door with such force the windows shook. Harry grabbed Ginny around the waist and tugged her down to the couch. They landed in a jumble of arms and legs on top of each other. Ron stomped into the living room and fixed Ginny with a furious glare.

"Are you happy now?"

She went to respond, even apologize but Harry squeezed her side so hard she winced and looked over at him instead. Ron stormed off up the stairs, not stopping once until he could slam his door shut.

"What was that for?" She grimaced and rubbed her side.

"Your own protection. Apparently your mouth needs a body guard."

"I was going to apologize." She grumbled at him. Harry wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. He whispered into her ear,

"Saying nothing was better."

"If you say so." She rolled her eyes and settled down against him. Her legs slung over his own, her right arm tucked against his side, and his hand running through her tangled hair. "Whose going to clean this mess up?"

"You." He laughed and leaned back against the couch.

"My mother did not specify a person to clean this up. You know I would just banish it to Ron's room." She gave him a sideway look, raised her wand, and opened her mouth to start the incantation. Harry put two fingers over her open mouth and with a wordless flick of his wand the mess was gone.

"See, you do need a body guard. I don't think I could have saved you a second time today." He smiled at her, and then pulled his fingers away. Something started burning deep within her, and she had to look away. Harry's body heat was coming off in waves, with it a mix of soap and fabric softener that swirled around her. She was acutely aware of how close they were, how alone they were, and how each body part tingled as it came into contact with him. She licked her lips and pushed some hair behind her ear.

He was acting so casual, like this was something they did all the time, instead of a random moment of intimacy. She was expecting someone to walk in on them at any moment, maybe he was too, and that's why it hadn't gone any further. Any other boy would have already made his move, all her other boyfriends could never resist a moment to steal a kiss or drive her crazy by coming in close. But she already knew that Harry wasn't like any other boy, or boyfriend that she'd ever had.

Was he her boyfriend? Everyone thought he was, they were acting as if he was, but nothing had ever really been said. Did they need some kind of declaration? Wasn't it enough already? She already knew how he felt; he showed it to her some how every day. Then it must be her, she must be the hesitant one. A sick feeling filled the pit of her stomach, Ron was right, she was an ice queen. She could have kissed him whenever she wanted, he wouldn't have stopped her. And even with this realization she was still hesitating, still second guessing, and refusing to believe.

"You look confused."

"I am." The words stuck in her mouth. She had to test this theory, if he would kiss her back then he was her boyfriend, albeit a complicated boyfriend, but one still the same. If he stopped her, or freaked out then he was just being mean and toying with her emotions, something she didn't think Harry was actually capable of, he was too nice of a guy. Ron, obviously, was capable of being cruel, but not Harry. Never Harry.

"About what?" He started playing with her hair again and she turned back to look at him. She licked her lips, took a breath and closed the space between them.

His eyes met hers for a brief moment and then their lips touched and any doubt, any insecurity, any hesitation evaporated from her mind. She pulled back for a moment, the blood pounding in her chest. Harry let out a ragged breath and met her eyes,

"Still confused?"

She looked down at the brilliant emerald green, and the small smile across his face. She couldn't help but smile back and shook her head no. This was one thing she would never be confused about again. He ran his fingers across her cheek and she turned into his palm to kiss it, the fire in her stomach started churning again. His hand continued to move across her face cupping right under her jaw to pull her closer, and once she started kissing him again, his hand moved to the back of her neck to pull her even closer.

Things started to escalate quickly from there. The angle that she had landed in was making her strain her neck, so in one neat move she straddled his lap. This extremely close proximity now made each kiss a little deeper, a little more frantic. Harry's hand around the back of her neck started to travel down, his fingers moving over every vertebra in her back. His other hand was wrapped tightly around her waist. She ran her hands through his hair and felt him groan into her mouth. Her body flushed, and suddenly the jacket was too much, she had to have less clothing on. She let go of his hair and started yanking at it, trying to remove the wrinkled jacket she'd been wearing all day. Harry stopped for a moment, his hot breath falling across her face and noticed what she was doing. He helped her rip it off, and unceremoniously tossed it to the floor. His lips found her neck instead this time, moving from one side, across her flushed collarbones, and back up to the other side.

Her mind turned off for a moment, fuzzy, hazy joy the only thing managing to make it through the thick layer of lust that was clouding her brain. She thought she might have lost consciousness, she was breathing so hard, and she felt so hot, his lips continued to move back and forth over her neck. When his teeth lightly grazed her neck an involuntary moan escaped her mouth and she melted further down into his lap. Her hands returned back to his hair, fingernails scratching against his scalp, and then she tugged lightly to find his mouth again. It was crushing, almost bruising, their lips meeting over and over again between the hot breaths panting out between them. She ran her tongue lightly over his bottom lip. Harry groaned again, his hands fumbling with the bottom of her shirt, hot palms running up and down the bare skin of her back She dropped her own hands from his hair, needing to feel more skin. She yanked at his shirt, stuck to the couch a little and was satisfied when it easily lifted up. Her fingers greedily ran over the skin, her own palms running up and down his sides. She felt him hold onto her tighter, and then moved to start kissing her neck again. Daring to go lower and lower on her shirt with each pass.

Her mind hazed off, her breath came out fast and hard, her body started to heat to an almost unbearable degree. The fire in her stomach intensified, building on top of what was already forming. She wanted to lie down, she wanted to feel more of his body, she needed to take off her restricting pants, they were cutting off the circulation in her legs. When his teeth lightly bit her neck the slight edge of reason she had been holding onto disappeared and she just started riding the wave of intense pleasure this moment was giving her. She would have done anything at that point, no questions asked. Harry's frantic hands were edging closer and closer toward the lace of her bra.

She noticed she was nodding against his kisses, urging him on wordlessly. Her body felt like it was sweating out a fever, she couldn't catch her breath, her fingernails scratched up his back, her chest heaving against him. And then she heard Ron's door fire open above them. As his footsteps started pounding down the stairs she quickly jumped off of Harry's lap, her frazzled and clouded mind half frantic and half infuriated at what she was doing. Harry gave her a very confused look, his eyes almost black they were so dilated with lust, and then heard Ron's pounding himself. He pulled his clothes back on, she sat on the couch far away from him, and they both let out a frustrated breath.

"Right," he panted, trying to catch his breath. "I'm gonna go take a walk."

"Right." She nodded back and watched as he stiffly limped toward the back door.

* * *

~*~

Author's Notes:

In case you couldn't figure it out, the muggle book Hermione gave to Ginny was The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett. One of my personal favorites, and its sheer size was very Hermione-esk!


	8. Chapter 8

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 8~

_She would change everything about her,_

_Using color's bold and bright._

_But all the color's mix together…to grey._

_And it breaks her heart._

_Grey Street by The Dave Matthews Band_

* * *

~*~

"Do you want me to talk to Hermione?"

She knew Ron was awake. For one thing it was three in the afternoon, and he never slept that long. Another reason was the fact that he didn't come down for food. Ron was always hungry, so that meant he was depressed. He rolled over to face the wall and pulled the covers up higher over his head.

"Honestly, Ron, I'm sorry. I only meant to poke fun at you. You know I didn't mean to upset Hermione, she's my friend. If you don't say anything I'm going to talk to her."

"Just leave it be." He grumbled.

"You can't just leave it be, Ron. Hermione's not like that, she'll just continue to feel more and more hurt. You have to say something to her, you have to apologize!" She sat down next to him on his bed, some dirt falling off her clothes.

Her mother had made sure she was up bright and early to start weeding the garden and pulling all the vegetables for dinner. And to ensure that she did it alone she'd enlisted Harry to help her carry all the bags of clothing and food, as well as the tool kit and medicine bags she brought with her on her goodwill outing. Her mother had found her niche, she helped everyone rebuild and restart their lives after the war. Be it with clothes, or helping them mend a wall she was there. They had all been spared so far in her humanitarian efforts, but today Harry was the first causality. It was mid afternoon and they still weren't back.

"Leave me alone." Ron's pathetic voice was muffled by his covers.

"Ugh," she pushed him and ripped them off his head. "Are you Ronald Weasley or not? Honestly, my entire life all I'd hear about were my brothers and how wonderful they were. Then you go and get famous and now all I hear about it how lucky I am to have you as a brother. Show some damn courage! Suck up your pride and talk to her." She stood and ripped the covers off. Ron just continued to lay there.

"And say what? You were right?" He looked up at her, eyes bloodshot, face puffy, and a general exhausted expression over his face.

"So what if she was? Hermione is always right." Ginny laughed.

"You don't get it, Ginny." He rolled back over to face the wall. "Just leave me alone."

She stood there for a long moment. She'd never seen Ron so defeated in all her life. They'd just had an argument; it wasn't anything new for the two of them. She must be missing something, there must be more secrets floating around. For once she wished Harry was there so he could explain what was going on. She usually despised the level of secrecy and closeness of the three of them, but if Harry could decipher what was wrong then she needed him.

"Fine. But I left you some lunch on Harry's bed. Please eat something, Ron."

She closed the door behind herself and made her way down to the shower. She needed to visit Hermione, at least to apologize.

* * *

~*~

It wasn't exactly what she had expected. Hermione's parent's house stood on a long street, all the houses looked the same, all the lawns were perfectly maintained, and the entire neighborhood was silent. She'd had to apparate at the bottom of the street in a thicket of trees and bushes. That much she remembered hearing Ron and Harry complaining about, they wanted her to lift the apparition ban on her house. After that she slowly walked up the street, looking at every black, perfectly aligned house number. Each was hammered on the same exact post on every house. She was looking for number 16, that much she remembered from her mother's address book.

Standing in front of the house, poised to knock, and she couldn't remember how to speak. It was unnerving how all the houses looked the same; she didn't know if she was at the right one. Her closed fist hung inches in front of the door, and then she took a deep breath and knocked. She cleared her throat hoping that she would be able to say something.

"Coming." Some called from inside. She jammed her fists into her jeans. Suddenly she was filled with panic, had she dressed correctly? She looked down at her sneakers, jeans, t-shirt, and jacket. She had thought it was inconspicuous enough. The front door pulled open and she froze.

"Can I help you?" Mrs. Granger stared at her with a peculiar expression on her face. It seemed like she was trying to recognize her, but at the same time she was guarded.

"I'm," she coughed, her voice breaking. "I'm Ginny Weasley. Ron's sister. I was wondering if I could see Hermione."

"Ginny? Oh, dear, I didn't recognize you!" She smiled and opened the door further. "You look so different then you did at the hospital."

"Thank you?" It came out as a question. Yet another thing she didn't remember from her time as a zombie. She'd have to have someone fill her in on all the visitor's she'd ignored, so she wasn't caught off guard again.

"Hermione?" Mrs. Granger called out into the house. Ginny took the time to look around. Even the inside of her house was a bit unnerving. Everything was perfect. No dust, no clutter, the floors swept, the carpet vacuumed, and every single picture hanging on the wall was perfectly straight. The windows were so clean that the sun shining through them was actually hurting her eyes.

"Ginny?" Hermione's confused voice filled her head and she relaxed. "What are you doing here?"

Hermione was still in her pajamas, a blue tank top with matching blue striped pants. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, her face was incredulous.

"Don't be rude Hermione." Her mother reprimanded and Ginny felt a little more at ease. At least mothers were the same everywhere.

"Sorry. Hi." She reached over and grabbed her hand. "Come with me."

Ginny turned around and waved at Mrs. Granger who smiled back. She drug her down a hallway, pictures of a baby Hermione smiling up at her. Oddly enough, not a single picture of Hermione at Hogwarts was on the wall. When they reached a white door Hermione swung it open and pulled Ginny in. She let out a sigh of relief, organized chaos. There were books everywhere. She had three different bookshelves tight against three walls, each overrun with books. Stacks and stacks of them were pilled on the floor, on the window sill, on her desk, by her bed. Pictures and clippings from newspapers littered her walls in a haphazard sort of way. A quick peak toward her closet showed her clothes messy and crumpled into mountains on the floor. Hermione's white and purple bedspread was twisted all over the bed, on the one wall without any books on it. Yet, even on her bed she had a book lying across it.

"What's wrong? What happened? Is it Harry?"

She finally looked over at Hermione, her face deadly serious. She realized coming unannounced was a bad idea.

"Everything is fine. I came to apologize."

"Oh," she deflated. She quickly moved over to her bed and sat down, putting her face into her hands. "Oh God. Don't scare me like that Ginny."

"I'm sorry. I should have given you some warning." Ginny felt awkward standing in the middle of Hermione's room; she didn't know what to do. Hermione wiped at her face, and then looked up at Ginny.

"No one comes to visit me. I thought it was bad news. But everyone is alright?" She gave her a serious look.

"Define alright." Ginny shoved her hands into her jeans again. "You could really say none of us are doing alright."

"Obviously." Hermione let out a frustrated huff. She picked up the book off her bed and tossed it to the floor. Ginny noticed it was a Muggle novel. "Well sit down, you look uncomfortable."

"Right. First, I'm sorry. I have a bad mouth, and an even worse temper. I didn't mean to embarrass you last night." Once Hermione smiled back at her she sat down on the bouncy bed.

"Apology accepted. I'll admit I was more shocked then offended or embarrassed last night. I've never seen the two of you fight like that." Hermione tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Happens all the time." Ginny waved it off. "Second, Ron's a mess. I come offering peace on his behalf." Hermione looked away then, out onto the mountain of books. "He's still in his pajamas too."

"I don't know." Hermione looked down at her hands, now in her lap. She started playing with the bottom of her shirt. "I don't want to burden you with this Ginny."

"Why would you two being happy be a burden?"

"It's not just about Ron being angry." Hermione looked up a sad smile across her face. "It's not just about Fred. Things happened last year that you don't know about, and it's about that too. I just don't think you'd understand." She sniffled a little.

"Ron said the same thing." Ginny lowered her voice. "Something happened. Did someone hurt you Hermione? Did Ron hurt you?" Her stomach twisted into horrible knots. She knew in her heart that her brother would never lay a hand on any girl; she was a testament to that. Still, no one but those three knew everything that happened, and she was starting to think no one else ever would.

"No," Hermione started to cry. "No, Ron would never hurt me."

"But someone did." Ginny deduced and moved across the bed to put a supportive arm over Hermione's shoulders. She let out a sob, and then tried to control herself.

"It's something I just don't want to remember anymore. But it's one of the reasons your brother is still so angry, and every time his temper flares it reminds me. He's just trying to be protective. He's trying…but…" She broke off into tears again. Ginny was at a loss.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry you can't move forward. I know what that feels like." She felt tears start to form in her own throat.

"God, it's not even like I remember most of it." Hermione cried out through her tears. "It's not like Harry hasn't been through worse."

"What happened? Please," Ginny squeezed her harder. "Just tell me. It might help." Hermione took a long breath, trying to compose herself.

"I was tortured. We had been captured; they took me separate from Ron and Harry. And she wanted an answer; she just kept yelling and cursing me. I kept screaming and screaming. I was in so much pain. And then I passed out." Hermione finished in sobs. Ginny felt hot tears running down her face as well, she held onto Hermione until they both stopped crying. "Ron wants vengeance. It's eating him alive. The only problem is she's already dead. So where does all that anger go?"

"It was Bellatrix Lestrange, wasn't it?"

"Yes." Hermione looked at her with frighteningly angry eyes. "And I would have restrained her myself, but your Mum got there first."

"Oh Hermione," Ginny sighed. "I think we all have a reason we wanted to kill that evil bitch."

Hermione let out a laugh through her tears. She kept laughing and Ginny ran a supportive hand up and down her back. Hermione finally took a large breath and sighed, "You're right."

"I'm pretty sure half of the Wizarding world at large had a reason to kill her."

"She was so evil." Hermione shook her head and then looked back down at her hands. "Apparently Ron was beside himself. They could hear me screaming down in the dungeon. He still hasn't been able to shake it."

"Maybe he never will. That's not something you easily forget." Ginny offered. Every single moment she'd seen Harry broken, battered, bleeding, bruised, hysterical, unconscious, or dying flashed across her eyes. Yes, those were all moments she would never forget.

"I suppose you're right. Maybe I shouldn't be so demanding of him."

"You call that demanding? Hermione," she grabbed her shoulders and made her turn to face her. "You are the best thing that ever happened to my brother. He knows that, and he's terrified of losing you. I can tell, and I think everyone knew all along. Please keep doing exactly what you're doing, and don't let his little mood swings throw you off." Hermione smiled at her. "Please, I'm begging you."

"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere." Hermione sighed and wiped her face again. She leaned back against her wall, and pushed her frizzy hair behind her ears. Ginny leaned back as well. She twisted her hair up into a bun to cushion her head against the wall.

"Good, because I wouldn't want anyone else as my sister-in-law." She smiled at her.

"Don't get ahead of yourself Ginny." Hermione laughed and then her eyes zeroed in on her. "What's on your neck?"

Her hand flew immediately to the exact spot. She'd found it after her shower, once she realized it wasn't dirt she'd cursed Harry's name up and down. If her hair was down you didn't notice it. But she was still so stark white that it contrasted horribly against her skin.

"Nothing."

"Ginny!" Hermione's face dropped into amused surprise. She felt herself heating up with embarrassment_. _"You haven't even tried to get rid of it? It's not that hard."

"How would you know?" Ginny slyly asked, feeling her own smile forming across her beet red face.

"Oh please," Hermione stood up and stood in front of her, wand out. "Boy's always go for the neck first. It's like marking their territory or something. The girls in my dorm were constantly covering them up. Then again I did live with Lavender, so it makes sense." Hermione laughed. She waved her wand a bit and brightly said, "Episkey." The mark was gone.

"You're a genius!" Ginny laughed and ran her hand over her neck. "And Harry is a dead man."

"So you two are back together?" Hermione gave her a tentative smile.

"Yeah. Ron's not too happy about it." She put her hand over her neck again, still self conscious.

"I know." Hermione set her wand on her desk. "I don't think he's going to get better any time soon." She shrugged at Ginny. "I've tried, he won't listen."

"It's in his nature to harass me. I just wish he didn't seem to find the more embarrassing times to do it." She leaned over the side of the bed and picked up a book. She wanted to talk to someone about this, but it was still too embarrassing to make eye contact.

"Oh no," Hermione moaned. "Did he manage to walk in on you two last night?"

"Almost. Sometimes it feels like he's become my shadow. He's always around." Ginny felt the slightest blush start to form at the memory of last night.

"Now that's just cruel. I need to talk to him about that." Hermione crossed her arms and frowned. Ginny looked back down at the book, just seeing words and blank space, not really reading.

"Better him then anyone else. Honestly."

"Oh really?" Hermione smiled at her and Ginny felt herself blush again. She snapped the book shut and looked at her friend.

"Don't say anything to Ron. I know he's going through some issues, and my brother's are going to come down hard on him again. It's bad enough with me being the only girl, but everything is so confusing and difficult when you add Harry into the mix. I don't want him to have to choose between his best friend and his sister."

"Don't worry. I'm just going to remind him of the blind eye Harry's had to turn for our benefit over the past few months."

"Thanks." Ginny let out a sigh of relief.

"Are you happy?" Hermione's voice was so low it almost sounded like a whisper. She was playing with a string on her comforter.

"Yes. As happy as I can be right now."

"Good." Hermione paused, and Ginny felt like she had been holding something back.

"What?" She set the book back down.

"It's just…" Hermione dropped the string she'd been playing with and met her brown eyes. "I was starting to think Harry could never be happy. Never really happy, like how Ron and I are. It was so hard to watch Ginny. He was desperate, always pacing around. It was difficult to believe we'd just won a war, it seemed like he was getting ready for another funeral. And you didn't even look like yourself anymore. Everyone was being optimistic about it, but just being around you was difficult. I know that's hard to hear, and I'm sorry. I guess I'm just trying to say that if you're happy, then he's happy. So I'm glad you're both happy." She broke off and tears filled her eyes again. "I just love you both so much."

"I know Hermione." Ginny held out a supportive hand, which Hermione grabbed for a second as she tried to regain composure. But all Ginny felt was numb. She felt the wave of panic start in her chest. She bit her lip to tamper it down. The hospital, being sick, a pacing Harry: they all started to flash across her mind.

Suddenly she was back on the 4th floor, covered in several pink blankets. Her machines were beeping and whirling around her, the flowers were wafting an almost unbearable smell. She turned toward the window, away from the door, away from who was right outside it.

_"She hasn't eaten anything."_

_"That's very normal." Jenna's soothing voice entered her room. She was aware of the added light, but still looked at the wall, wanting everyone to just leave her alone. The door closed behind them._

_"But how is she able to stay alive? Should she be getting an IV or something?"_

_She heard his feet pacing back and forth, back and forth, sneakers squeaking across the impeccably clean floors._

_"With all due respect, Mr. Potter," Jenna paused. "We are closely monitoring Miss Weasley's condition on a minute to minute basis. We would know if she needed food. Maybe you should get some sleep." Jenna touched her bed and then she heard them both moving back toward the door._

_"I'm not tired." Harry huffed, and when the door closed, his sneakers started squeaking again._

"Ginny?" Hermione was shaking her. "Are you okay? Please wake up."

"What?" She opened her eyes, and she was lying down on Hermione's bed. Mrs. Granger was waving a book over her face; Hermione was lightly shaking her and then checking her forehead and pulse.

"Oh, thank God!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed upon seeing her open eyes. She kept fanning her with a Muggle novel. "I'm afraid you had a spell, dear."

"What spell?" Ginny asked, very confused and still disoriented. Her mind was swimming, she could still hear the beeping of the machines in the hospital in the back of her head, but she knew she was with Hermione.

"It's a Muggle term. You passed out. What happened?" Hermione helped her sit up; Mrs. Granger set the book down.

"Um, flashback. It was something you said that triggered it." She put her head into her hands and took a deep breath; she could still hear the squeaking sneakers. "Just give me a moment."

"Of course." Mrs. Granger pulled Hermione off the bed and into the hallway to give her some privacy. But Ginny could still hear their heated debate.

"She looks so ill, you have to take her to that hospital."

"No, Mum, she won't go. She's fine."

"She is not fine Hermione. That poor girl passed out at a memory! There is something still seriously wrong with her."

"Nothing is wrong with her. She has post-traumatic stress. She's still working through it."

"Why didn't you tell me that before? In a way I could understand? Not all these strange words and things."

"I'm sorry, but that was what it was called at St. Mungo's. I didn't realize that there was a regular term until now. She'll be fine, this happens all the time." Hermione let out a huff. Mrs. Granger sucked in a slightly startled breath,

"And they haven't taken her back to this St. Mungo's? She needs help. She looks anorexic, Hermione. She is obviously still under tremendous strain. I'm going to call her mother."

"Mum, you can't call her." Hermione sounded like she was seething.

"Excuse me? Oh yes I can."

"They don't have a phone. They are a WIZARDING family! Phones don't exist there!"

"Oh, right." Came Mrs. Granger's curt response.

"I've told you this before. Either you refuse to listen to me, or you choose to ignore it. Things are different, I am different, and the sooner you come to terms with that the easier this will all be."

"I know you are different. Sweetheart, you have always been special. You are brilliant, talented, loyal, beautiful, and brave."

"And a witch." Hermione interjected quite harshly.

"Of course, that too."

"I'm not doing this again. I can't fight about this again today. Once is enough."

The door swung open and Mrs. Granger took off down the hall. Hermione stared at her for a moment, realizing she'd just heard the argument,

"Sorry about that. You shouldn't have to hear that."

"It's okay. People fight." Ginny offered, her mind finally cleared of the flashback. Now it was just filled with a funny mix of sympathy and rage at how strained Hermione and Mrs. Granger were.

"Let's get going." She grabbed a jacket and slung it over her pajamas.

"You don't have to take me back. I'll be fine."

"Yeah right," Hermione rolled her eyes and slipped into some sneakers. "Not on my watch."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ginny eyed her cautiously.

"The sooner you realize just how protective Harry is about you the better, Ginny. Honestly. You should have seen the look on his face that time we made you cry, I was scared." Hermione paused and then ran her hands over her face. "Sorry, I'm not mad at you or Harry. I'm mad at my mother."

"I can see why." Ginny stood, resituating her jacket.

"At any rate, I don't want you to splinch yourself. Just let me side along apparate with you to the grounds, and then you can walk home." Hermione let out a long breath and opened her door wider.

"You don't want to come in with me?" She tried. She knew Hermione would say no. She'd never seen her so on edge, and that would not work well with the crazy and often antagonistic atmosphere at the Burrow.

"Not today." Hermione looked at the floor until Ginny walked out the door.

* * *

~*~

The second they appeared on the dusty dirt road toward the Burrow Hermione froze. Ginny hadn't even had time to let go of Hermione's arm yet before she had her wand out, ready to apparate back.

"Wait!" She panted. She wasn't used to side along, it was a horrible experience. "You'll splinch me."

Hermione growled, actually growled at her. Ginny looked up startled to see what would make her so angry, and there stood her brother, still in his own pajama's.

"I was in the living room. Ginny's clock arm went from mortal peril to sick to traveling. I figured she would be with you."

"Well she's home. I have to go." She shook off Ginny and turned on the spot before anyone could stop her. Ron shrugged his shoulders at the empty spot of dirt Hermione used to be in.

"I tried to get her to stay, Ron." Ginny moved toward him. Ron shook himself out of the contemplation he was having and started walking back to the house.

"Thanks."

"Really, I did. And she talked to me. She told me some things." She tripped after him, her legs still a little wobbly.

"Did she now? More then she's ever said to me I bet."

"Well, I heard an argument with her Mum. And she told me about Lestrange." She felt an unnerving tension fill the empty road around them. It was probably the wrong thing to say, but she wasn't going to lie. Everyone else was doing that enough already.

"Did she now?" This time it came out as a bitter laugh. He turned back around and started stalking to the house. She had to jog to keep up with him.

"Ron, it was horrible what you all went through. Keeping it inside and trying to ignore it isn't going to help. I know! It's what I'm going through right now. You don't want to go crazy too!" She was yelling it after him now he was moving so fast. She sucked in a breath and ran to try and catch up with him. Ron hit the door seconds before her. He blew past Harry and her Mother, both just back and unloading all their bags onto the table.

"Ronald?" Her mother called after him, but he continued to stomp up the stairs.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"Lestrange." Ginny panted out. Mrs. Weasley shook her head, her face a mix between disgust and satisfaction. But Harry turned sheet white.

"How do you know about Lestrange?"

"Hermione." She panted again, the running had caused a stitch to form in her side, every breath was painful.

"Come with me." Harry grabbed her under one of her arms and started dragging her up the stairs. Her Mum stared at the both of them with confusion; Ginny shrugged, and was then pulled into her room.

Harry set her down on her bed and then closed the door. He crossed his arms over his chest and paced around for a second. Then he decided to sit, he grabbed her desk chair and placed it in front of her. Then he stood up and started pacing again.

"We're going to get in trouble with that door." Ginny whispered. The sound of his feet pacing back and forth across her wooden floors was making her mind swim. She heard a faint beeping and took a deep breath to steady herself. She wasn't sure what had gone so wrong in her mind today, but she seemed to be losing the ability to control it, again.

"So she told you."

"Yes." Ginny sighed out. Harry nodded and started pacing back and forth in front of the chair. The beeping grew louder in her mind, and she stuck out a hand to stop him. It ran across his leg and he looked down. "Please stop pacing, or I think I'll loose consciousness again."

"Again?" He dropped to his knees so they were eye level. She looked into his eyes and the hospital swam into view. The pink walls, the flowers and disinfectant, the beeping, it continued to firm up the long she stared at him. "Lay down."

She fell over onto her side, and then rolled onto her back. She felt a bit feverish, sweaty and clammy, her stomach turned tenderly. She closed her eyes and put her hands over her face, willing her own room to come back into focus. When she opened them again she sighed with relief.

"Okay, I'm ready." She moved to sit up.

"Sleep, Ginny." He put a hand on her shoulder to keep her down.

"I'm not tired. At all. I'm just having a rough day. They can't all be good." She grumbled, his hand still on her shoulder.

"You passed out at Hermione's house? When was the last time you ate? How long were you outside today?" He started in rapid fire.

"What's with all the questions?" She forced herself up and wiped the clammy sweat off her forehead.

"Why did you pass out?" He countered, sitting down on the bed next to her.

"Hermione said something that triggered a flashback. It wasn't even a bad one, I just kind of shut off." She pulled her jacket off and threw it at the chair.

"What did she say?"

Hermione said a lot of things she didn't feel the need to repeat at the moment. Couldn't she keep some conversations to herself? Maybe he was too overprotective; maybe she had just confused it with concern.

"I don't want to tell you."

"How am I supposed to know not to say it, then?"

"Because it's not something you said, it's something you did!" Ginny argued and stood up off the bed. She had to get away from him; her temper was starting to flare.

"What did I do?"

"The pacing, Harry. The pacing." She yelled at him, her temper simmering over. "Why do you want to know every thought I have? Can't I have a friend to tell things to? I didn't even remember that you did it until she said it. The constant pacing in my hospital room, I can hear it in my head now. Is that what you wanted to hear? That you annoy me?" She turned away from him, angry tears starting to fill her eyes. "And this was the first day I've felt normal."

"That's good."

She turned around and glared at him. Was it impossible for him to argue with her?

"What's good?"

"The normal part." He looked at her, confused now.

"So it didn't bug you that I said you annoyed me, and accused you of not letting me have friends and secrets?" It was her turn to cross her arms and stand in front of the chair.

"No."

"Why?" She flopped down into the chair. Her door swung open as her mother made her way up the stairs. They both looked at the open space and then back at each other. "Why aren't you mad? Why aren't you fighting me?"

"For one thing, fighting isn't going to solve anything. And I can't be mad at you for yelling at me. We've all been waiting for you to feel normal again for a long time. If yelling at me helps that, then I really don't care."

Ginny hung her head. She couldn't tell if she felt shamed by his answer or defeated by it. "You are so confusing."

"No, you're just at a disadvantage. I've lived with a Weasley."

"And you're here to tell the tale." She joked and leaned back against the chair.

"Barely." He smiled at her. "How is Hermione?"

"Bad." She frowned. "She was a wreck when I showed up. Then burst into tears when she told me about Lestrange. And then she got into a fight with her Mum. It didn't sound very good. I've never seen her be like that before."

"It's been hard for her." Harry frowned as well.

"It seems like her Mum might be trying to understand, but I think she's at a loss. I think Hermione kept too much from her for too long. I can't even imagine what it must be like to find out you're a witch one day, let alone explain it to your family."

"It's not easy." Harry said darkly.

"Harry," Ginny started. She leaned forward to squeeze his knee. They both looked up as long knock came on the door as it swung open.

"What's up, mate?"

Ginny turned to see Ron, fully dressed and looking miserable. He looked between them for a moment and then sighed.

"I'm off to work for George. Harry, can you talk to Hermione, please."

"Yeah." Harry nodded. Ron nodded back and then trudged down the stairs. They heard the fireplace roar to life, and then he was gone.

"He looks just as bad as her." Ginny sighed and let go of Harry's knee.

"Why's he going to work for George?"

"Right," Ginny paused. "That."

"Is George in trouble? Are the stores in trouble?" Harry moved to the edge of the bed, preparing to stand.

"George told me not to tell. Honestly, I'm sick of all the lies." She stood and pushed him back down onto the bed. "He's overwhelmed, Harry. The stores are doing wonderfully, but George is not. He wanted family to help run it. Ron is stepping in." She realized she was still holding onto his shoulders and slowly let go. Her stomach burnt with the memory of last night.

"Why didn't he ask me?"

"It's a pride thing. And you're under house arrest." She clamped her hands around her sides. She wanted to touch him again, and this was not the time. "Don't be offended, please."

"I'm not. Are you going to help as well?"

"No. At least not right now." She squeezed herself tighter, the burning spreading across her. She swallowed hard and tried to gain some composure, her mind was not working at all with her today. "How was your day?"

"Good. Really good." He smiled. The dark cloud over his features lifted.

"Tell me." That was a safe statement. She could try and concentrate on his boring day and will away the lust overrunning her mind. She stood, moving toward her closet, trying to keep her hands busy. Harry stood as well dragging the chair after him. He sat down next to the desk and picked up her photo album.

"I thought your Mum would want me to alter my appearance, but she said it would be fine. I'll admit I was a little nervous, but everyone was really nice. It was good to be out of the house and doing something productive."

He paused and looked closer at a photo. She already knew what it was. He was on the fifth page, and that meant it was her and Neville at the Yule Ball.

"You look nice here," he pointed to the picture. It was a smiling and laughing Neville with an arm around her waist, and her grinning and elbowing him in the side.

"Yule Ball." It stuck in her throat. She remembered whom Harry wanted to bring to that Yule Ball, and the jealously flared. She shook her head and tried to clear it, it was so petty, and so ancient. "So who did you help today?"

"Fixed a fence for some family in London. We brought some food to Mr. and Mrs. Weatherby up the street. And we went shopping for more supplies." He distractedly answered, still looking at all the pictures. Ginny realized she'd been re-hanging the same shirt over and over again. She looked over and he was examining some pages near the middle. Those would be Michael's pages. He would hit Dean soon.

"Why don't you look at something else?" She moved forward and snatched the book out of his hands.

"Why?" He tried to grab the book back from her.

"Do you have any pictures of Cho lying about you'd like me to take a look at?" She countered and threw the book, unceremoniously into her closet.

"Worried?" He smiled at her, his eyes brilliant green again.

"Jealous?" She countered, putting her hands on her hips.

"Always." He rumbled and stood up from the chair. She felt the mischievous smile spread across her face.

"Ginny!" Her mother yelled and they both deflated. "Come downstairs, please."

"Ugh." She sighed and Harry put a supportive arm over her shoulders as they left the room, and the playful banter that might have lead somewhere. "What do you think she wants me to do now? Pick the entire orchard by hand?"

"You didn't do anything bad." He dropped his arm around her waist and squeezed her close to his side.

"That you know of." She laughed. They stumbled into the living room and she froze. There stood a very angry Hermione, and a very flustered Mrs. Granger. Her mother met her with an icy stare,

"Ginny, please sit."

"Mrs. Granger, Hermione." She nodded to them, and then yanked Harry with her to one of the couches. She wasn't going to do this alone.

"Mrs. Granger wanted to talk to me about your health. She's concerned." Her mother tried to keep her voice even and understanding. Hermione closed her eyes and took a long breath through her nose.

"I do apologize. I don't mean to pry. But I've just seen too many young girls in my practice that have had eating disorders. Granted, I'm only a dentist, but there are signs." She started wringing her hands. Ginny looked at Harry out of the corner of her eye, she had no idea what an eating disorder was. Harry was watching Hermione, who was still taking long deep breaths.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Granger, but what is an eating disorder?" Ginny questioned. Hermione shook her head, still agitated.

"Oh. Perhaps it's called something different, or it isn't recognized here yet. It's a condition that young girls and sometimes young boys develop about body image. They stop eating altogether, or they throw up their food. I was just concerned because you are so very thin, and I don't remember you ever being that way. I just couldn't stand by and watch if there was something I could do." She nodded her head, as if to signal that she was done, and then folded her hands in her lap.

"Thank you for your concern." Mrs. Weasley started warmly. "But I'm afraid that Ginny doesn't have an eating problem. She's just been very ill."

"I told you." Hermione grumbled.

"All the same, a lot of times girls are able to hide it from their parents and friends. They'll hide food, or push it around on their plate to make it look like they've eaten something." Mrs. Granger swallowed hard and continued to look at her Mum. Ginny couldn't help but smile internally, so that's where Hermione got her Gryffindor courage.

"I don't understand." Mrs. Weasley started. "Are you saying that Ginny is hiding food in her room?"

"Mum, just let it go," Hermione grumbled again.

"You wanted me to get involved in your life, here I am." Mrs. Granger snapped back at her daughter.

"Everyone force feeds her food every day! She's under constant surveillance. I think we would have noticed." Hermione yelled. Harry squeezed her hand, and the words came tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"You are both right. I did stop eating. But it wasn't because of a body image thingy. I've just been very ill, Mrs. Granger. The nurses told me that it will take time to gain the weight back. I appreciate your concern. I am sorry if this caused any tension between the two of you."

That seemed to piss off Hermione even more. She squeezed Harry's hand. Her Mum, noticing the tension quickly building in the room stood up and brightly asked,

"Tea?"

She didn't even wait for a response; she moved toward the kitchen and started the kettle. Only a few moments later she emerged with five cups and a steaming pot. Mrs. Granger looked at her suspiciously; Hermione started breathing through her nose again.

"Ronald tells me that you have a lovely garden." Mrs. Weasley started. She poured a cup for mother and daughter and with a flick of her wand sent them gracefully floating over. Mrs. Granger's backed away for a moment, startled, and then sensing Hermione's building explosion reached out for the cup.

"Yes. It's quite lovely this time of year, and this beautiful weather has made for a long blooming season." She eyed the tea, suspiciously, and then took a dainty sip.

"Sugar?" Mrs. Weasley held up the sugar bowl. She shook her head no. "The weather has made quite a crop for us this year. Ginny has been up to her elbows in squash." Mrs. Weasley smiled at her, but there was a warning look in her eyes. Ginny had seen that before. It was the look she used to give about Fleur, the 'don't make me do this alone' look.

"Yes, and tomatoes." She took a sip of her own tea and glanced over at Harry again. He was concentrating very hard on his cup. She nudged him with her elbow; he was well away of the Fleur stare.

"Right." Was all he supplied, Ginny nudged him again and he gave her an apologetic look.

"How is your family in Surry doing, Harry?"

Everyone in the room but Mrs. Granger tensed. If there was one topic that Harry didn't like to talk about it was his only living relatives. Hermione seemed to have left a lot out when discussing her best friend with her mother.

"Wouldn't know." Harry quickly took a long gulp of tea.

"Really? Have you had no contact with them since the beginning of the summer?"

Mrs. Granger sipped her tea again.

"I haven't had any contact with them for a long time, and I intend to keep it that way." Harry managed as politely as he could, taking another huge swig of tea. Ginny reached over and squeezed his thigh, silently willing him to stay calm.

"But why?" Mrs. Granger wouldn't let up.

"Because they were horrible people. They regularly abused him, and had no regard for his personal well being. Nasty people, really." Mrs. Weasley set her tea down. "Harry has always been welcome here, and has chosen to stay with us until he gets his own apartment."

Hermione and Ginny looked at Harry, who was slugging the last part of his tea. He then curtly nodded and set the cup down. Mrs. Granger beamed a wonderful smile to Mrs. Weasley,

"That is so generous. It's nice to know that there are still good people in this world."

"It's nothing. Harry has been such a blessing to this family. We'd do anything for him. You must be so proud of Hermione and the things she has accomplished with Harry and Ron." Mrs. Weasley set her tea down, giving Harry a smile. Hermione paled.

"At school?" Mrs. Granger was genuinely confused.

"Well yes," Mrs. Weasley started, confused herself. "But in May, at the end of term."

Hermione turned a slight shade of green, and it dawned on Ginny. She hadn't told them, she hadn't told her parent's anything. Of course she had altered their memory to keep them safe during the war, but apparently she hadn't filled them in when she brought them back.

"You haven't told her, Hermione? They're going to give you an Order of Merlin, First Class and you haven't told your own Mum?" Ginny let go of Harry and moved toward the edge of her seat.

"Told me what? What's an Order of Merlin?" Mrs. Granger looked over at her daughter.

"Your daughter," Ginny started reverently. "Your brilliant, talented, loyal, beautiful, and brave daughter helped to kill Lord Voldemort. She's saved the entire Wizarding World. She's kept Harry and my brother alive all these years, she's a genius."

"Ginny, please." Hermione put her head in her hands.

"No, Hermione. If you won't tell your Mum, then I will."

Ginny looked around the room for a moment. Her own Mum had her mouth slightly opened in awe, unaware of the situation. Hermione was quickly turning red from her ghastly green/white complexion, Mrs. Granger was looking at her with rapt attention, and Harry smiled at her. He nodded, and she took a deep breath,

"Mrs. Granger, Hermione is literally a wizarding genius. She is so smart that no one in Hogwarts, in any grade, could ever match up to her marks. She is so brave that she has faced the most evil man our world has known multiple times without even thinking twice about it. She is so giving that she's stayed in the hospital with me, and helped to take care of me these past few months. I don't know why she hasn't told you any of this, but your daughter is amazing. And they are going to give her the highest honor our world can."

"Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me?" Mrs. Granger put an arm around Hermione's shoulders. Hermione burst into tears. Mrs. Weasley nodded to Ginny and she grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him with her on their quick retreat to the kitchen. Her Mum set a silencing charm on the living room,

"We should give them some privacy." She whispered, although she didn't need to, and turned to the sink to start prepping for dinner. "Could you go get me some apples for a pie tonight, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked over her shoulder. Ginny couldn't help it she burst out laughing,

"I told you!" She shoved Harry, playfully.

"Come on," Harry laughed and pulled on her shirt toward the back door.

"Harry, you received something in the post." Mrs. Weasley called out. Ginny gave him a disgruntled look, knowing it was a separation tactic from her mother. He gave her a grin and dropped her shirt. There was a single envelope on the counter; it had strange colors and squares all over the front of it.

Ginny hung onto the doorjamb, leaning in and out, trying to stall the apple punishment. Harry gave her a blinding smile as he opened the envelope, which just said his name on the front. The envelope fell gently to the floor, quickly forgotten as his eyes poured over the small slip of paper.

He glared at it for a moment, and then seemed to read it again. The smile fell off his face the second time around, his eyes clouding to a dark green. His fist clenched around the paper, crumpling it into a ball. Ginny stepped inside, moving toward him,

"Harry?"

She vaguely registered her mother halting her washing at the sink and turning around herself. Harry finally looked back at her,

"I have to go."

"Where?"

"I'm sorry, I have to go." He dropped the paper to the floor and started to leave the kitchen. She grabbed his arm, trying to stop him,

"Harry?"

"Is everything alright?" Her mother piped in.

"I'm sorry." He murmured, and pulled his arm away. When he turned the corner out of the kitchen she heard a pop and he was gone. Ginny bent down to the floor and picked up the strange envelope as well as the crumpled letter. The handwriting was one she had never seen before. It was in regular ink, on regular paper. It was hasty and sloppy looking.

_I have no way of knowing if that bird will find you. I was asked to inform you that Mrs. Figg has passed, and you are requested at the reading of her last will and testament. _

_-Petunia Dursley_

She felt her mother over her shoulder, finishing the letter as soon as she did.

"Oh dear."

"Who's Mrs. Figg?" Ginny turned around. The happy moment now destroyed, her Mother on the verge of tears again.

"Squib. She was stationed in Harry's relative's neighborhood. To watch over him." Her mother dabbed at her eyes. "She was such a brave woman. That's such a shame."

"But how does Harry know her?"

"You'll have to ask him, love." Her mother gave her a sad smile and went back to her washing. "Apples?" Her Mum looked over at her. Ginny set the letter back down on the counter.

"Right."

* * *

~*~

The Weasley household was in a somber mood. Even during past destruction and chaos somber was not something her family did. Laughing, fighting, joking, singing, pranking, even crying were every day occurrences, somber was something new. Ginny sat in the living room, listening to the sound of the old grandfather clock tocking away. Her mother's soft clicking knitting needles mixed with the tocking. Her father would clear his throat every once in a while and shake the Daily Prophet. Ginny felt like she was at a wake, if she would have been wearing all black she would have fit in perfectly.

The Grangers had left long before her mother lifted the silencing charm on the living room. Her father had popped right into the living room and propped his feet up on the coffee table; it was almost like he had never left that morning. Once her mother announced the passing of Mrs. Figg the room fell into silence. Only objects talked to her now. The clacking of needles telling her to stop thinking about it. The rustle of the paper telling her to clear her mind and go to bed. The tocking of the clock informing her that looking at it would not bring Harry back. It dragged on for hours, 9 o'clock, 10 o'clock, 11 o'clock. Her eyes started to drop closed.

"Any food? I'm starving." Ron announced in the kitchen. She hadn't even heard him come in.

"Thank Merlin!" She yelled and jumped up off the couch. Her mother dropped her knitting in surprise as Ginny made a mad dash for the kitchen. "Sit, sit. I'll make you some food."

"Ginny?"

"Please, I'm so bored." She pleaded, and Ron gave her a silent nod. She started pulling things from the fridge, placing them back on the stove. With a wave of her wand the kitchen came back to life. "Pumpkin juice?"

"Sure." Ron said cautiously, leaning against the counter. He picked up the crumpled letter and looked it over. "What's this?"

"Harry got it today."

"I didn't know his Aunt knew how to use the post. So Mrs. Figg died, eh?"

He grabbed the cup out of her hand and took a long swig.

"Yes. Did you know her?"

"Not really." It was all he offered. He dropped the letter back down to the counter and finished off his juice. "What's for dinner?"

"What do you think?" She grumbled, annoyed that no new information was given.

"Potatoes and squash?" Ron grabbed his cup and moved toward the dining room.

"Maybe if you close your eyes it will taste like steak." Ginny smirked at him and started stirring the quickly heating food.

* * *

~*~

The cards exploded with a bang, and they were both covered in ash and soot. Ron calmly shuffled the cards to start over again.

"So Harry never said anything about Mrs. Figg? He just acted so strange once he read the letter." She tried to shake some ash off.

"Well she was a squib. She lived down the street. He'd have to stay with her when he was younger. And it turns out she was a member of the original Order of the Phoenix." Ron started dealing out the cards.

"But why take off? It just doesn't make sense." She looked at her cards and placed the first one down on the table.

"There wasn't a date." Ron smacked down his next card.

"Why does that matter?" She tossed her card.

"What if it happened yesterday? His Aunt is evil like that." Ron smacked down another card. The deck started to smoke. "Why does it matter to you?"

"Because I don't know these things, Ron." She slammed a card down, the pile started to crackle. "Not like Harry volunteers the information."

"You're right about that." He nodded and tossed his next card onto the pile. It exploded with an even louder bang. They were both coughing as the smoke cleared. "I think this deck is defective."

"We don't have another one." Ginny sighed. It was the little things that reminded her that she was poor. Only every once in a while, like on a somber, slow night like

tonight.

"I bet there's a pack stashed up in the attic." Ron offered.

"Right, right. You slaved away all day at the shop. All I did was make you dinner and entertain you for the last two hours. I'll go get the cards." Ginny took a long time to get up from her chair, hoping he would change his mind.

"You're a great sister."

"I'm your only sister." She grumbled and stomped up the stairs. Ron tried to stay away from the attic since the incident with the ghoul during last summer. It had taken quite a bit of magic to get him out of the attic, and then even more to get him to stay in Ron's room. But it wasn't until they tried to transfigure the ghoul into looking like he had spattergroit that the ghoul finally fought back. The ghoul had managed to grab some books off the bed stand and smack Ron across his face several times before Ron stumbled away. Ron took the brunt of the attack, and ever since then the ghoul was waiting to exact its revenge.

"I'm coming in you nasty bugger!" Ginny yelled into the attic, and then paused at the stairs. A warning usually got you about ten minutes before he'd come looking for you. She heard a loud bang, followed by some items falling around, and went for it. She rushed up the ladder and lit her wand, sweeping it over the stacks and stacks of covered items. Quickly realizing that she would need to lift them and actually look she growled. She was running out of time. She lifted the sheet on the first lump, old chairs and tables. She lifted the sheet on the second lump, boxes of baby clothes. The third lump looked promising, and she lifted the sheet to see Fred and George's experimentation kit. She stumbled against the lab and hit the floor as the ghoul let out a particularly loud bang. Her mind swam into the past.

_"FRED! Come on you know you want to show me!"_

_She tried to sneak under his arm, around his back, under his legs. He had dodged her at every turn. His hand held tight on the door to their room he shook his head no again._

_"Top secret."_

_"You've been banging away all day in there! You've got to have something to show for it." She gave her the smile she reserved only for Bill, when she wanted something._

_"And we will continue to bang. Move along little one." He ruffled her hair, messing it out of her ponytail._

_"I'm hardly little. I recall beating you at Quidditch earlier today. Just let me in on the secret. We can tease Ron about it." She changed tactics, knowing pestering Ron was almost as much of a hobby to the twins as inventing was._

_"Tempting. You're driving a hard bargain Gin-Bug, but it's no."_

_An enormous bang erupted from behind the door, shaking the floor beneath them. Fred let out a little laugh, obviously worried, and ducked through the smoke filled doorway before she could get a foot in._

_"Alohamora!" She shouted at the door._

_"You're hilarious! George she thinks Alohamora is going to work!" Fred coughed on all the smoke. It was still billowing out from the cracks in the door. She heard windows opening and bent down to the keyhole trying to look in. When that didn't work she moved to the floor, blowing at the smoke to try to see through the crack._

_"What do you think Hermione could be doing?"_

_She heard Ron's voice, and then she felt his foot kick her in the side. He quickly fell on top of her and she let out a squeal as he compressed all the air out of her lungs. At that precise moment Fred swung open the door, smoke still billowing out behind him, his hair frizzy and crazed._

_"Harry my boy. Didn't know you were here. I'm sure you've met my sister. She makes a better doorstop then a Chaser." Fred gave him a large slap to the back. Harry's glasses fell to the front of his nose._

_"I resent that." She grumbled kick and pushing Ron out of the way._

_"You resemble that." Fred countered, and slung his arm around Harry's shoulders. "Have you ever thought about being in a cutting edge business?"_

_"Don't do it Harry!" She and Ron yelled out at the same time. Fred just shot them a nasty look and continued to push a worried Harry down the stairs. Ron pulled himself off and scrambled to his feet. He started chasing after their scheming brother._

_"We wouldn't hurt him. Just possibly maim him." George offered a hand to help her up._

_"That would go over SO well with Mum and Dad." She grabbed his hand and was yanked off the floor. The smoke had cleared and she had a single shot at the open door. She looked through the crack and saw something that resembled a laboratory._

_"Ah, you've seen too much." George let go and slammed the door shut. "I have to kill you now."_

_"You could try!" She laughed and dodged out of his grabbing hands._

She woke up on the floor. The sheet wrapped around her legs, trapping her there, covered in slime from the ghoul. Her face felt swollen and damp from tears, then she touched it and realized it wasn't just tears, she must have hit her face on the way down.

"Ginny?" Ron anxiously called out.

"Ginny?" Harry's voice was next. She tried to unwrap her legs, but as she was coming closer and closer to consciousness she felt less and less aware of her surroundings. Everything was spinning and her mind was pulsing with pain. She kicked her legs, trying to break them free, but the effort made black dots form over her vision. She must have hit her face really hard.

"Ginny." Ron was the first to reach her. He ripped the sheet off and kneeled down at her side. His lit wand ran over her face and he gasped. "What the hell happened to you? Was it the ghoul?"

"I think I blacked out again." She held her face in her hands, willing the pain in her head to stop.

"Think?" He grabbed her under an arm and pulled her up. The world spun, his light was so bright it was making her squint her already closed eyes. "Harry, I need some help up here."

Ron's hands slipped and slid all over the slimy top half of her. Her wobbly legs refused to cooperate. Ron had managed to get her to the opening for the ladder, and Harry grabbed her waist and led her down the rest of the way.

"What is all over you?"

She clamped her hands over her face, the lights from the hallway searing into her brain. Harry set her down on the floor and gasped.

"Oh my God you're bleeding. There's a lot of blood. Ron!"

"I'll go get…" He trailed off as she heard him take off down the hallway. Harry was pressing something to her face, his other hand wiping off the slime from the ghoul. She tried to turn away from the light, causing the pressure he had on her head to stop. She felt the blood pool again and a woozy weariness pulsed through her veins.

"Don't move." He ordered and pulled her closer, the pressure on her face was greater this time.

"The lights. The lights." She managed.

"Nox." He whispered. "I think you gave yourself a concussion."

"A what?"

"You hit your head. A concussion." He whispered back.

"Please be quiet, I'm so tired. I just want to sleep." She whispered back. Feeling the familiar blackness creep up from the back of her mind. Unconscious, yes, that's what she wanted. It would make all the pain she was experiencing go away.

"Ginny! You can't sleep!" Harry yelled at her, the lights exploding like a sun flare in the hallway. "Don't sleep, open your eyes!" He grabbed her face with his other hand; she could still feel all the slime against her skin.

"Ginevra?" Her father's voice boomed in the hallway. "What has happened?"

"We don't really know." Ron's voice entered the hallway as well.

"We have to take her to St. Mungo's. She can't be fixed here. Not this time." Her father's voice seemed close to her ear.

The darkness pulled at her mind again. Slipping to the side to reveal something she had tried to hide. Herself on the cold stone tiles of the Great Hall, her father's voice at her ear, Harry and Ron's voices around her, and the desire to just let it all go. She wasn't sure if she opened her eyes and looked to her left if she would see Fred or not. She didn't want to try.

"Ginny open your eyes." Harry asked again.

"Not the hospital. Not the hospital." She managed, and then the darkness took her.

* * *

~*~

Author's Note:

Thanks for sticking with me this long! Thanks to Casca for all her hard work and fearless editing. Thanks to friendsofhagrid for all the tremendous help! And thanks to my husband for asking, "How's Harry?" and then leaving me to work.


	9. Chapter 9

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 9~

_You make me think of someone wonderful,_

_But I can't place her._

_I wake up every morning,_

_Wishing one more time to face her._

_Goodnight, Goodnight by Maroon 5_

* * *

~*~

Scribble, scribble, scribble. Flap, flap, flap. Beep, beep, beep. They swirled around inside her brain as she slowly became aware. Panic gripped her chest and some trill alarm went off above her head.

"Ginny, its okay." George's voice filled her mind and she tried to calm down. The alarm sputtered into silence and she opened her eyes. George was next to her bed, looking at the machines around her, and then back down at her face. "You're safe, don't worry. You're not on the fourth floor."

"What happened?" She coughed, and her mind exploded with pain. It all came flooding back to her; the attic, the fall, the blood, and the hospital. George pushed a button and a nurse came into the room.

"Good, you're awake. Looks like you're still in some pain. Have a sip of this." She smiled brightly at her and held out a small white cup.

"What is it?" She eyed it nervously. She was done with potions. Her time of unconsciousness was over; she wouldn't voluntarily slip back into a coma this time around.

"Just a pain potion, it will take the edge off." She pushed the cup closer to her face. Ginny waved a hand to stop her. It had several different hospital bracelets on it.

"No, thank you."

"Really? Alright, suite yourself." She set the pain cup down on the bedside counter and left the room. Ginny closed her eyes and sighed,

"What happened?"

"Concussion, some blood loss, and some stitches. You cracked your skull pretty hard. Nothing permanent." George sat down in the chair next to her bed.

"Then what's with all the bracelets?" She held up her arm.

"Red is the emergency bracelet that they gave you when you came in. Blue is an indication of a non-life threatening injury. And pink…well, that one is to tell them you have a history of mental illness." George looked away. The anger boiled in her stomach.

"History of mental illness?"

"Their words not mine, Gin." George turned back to her. "Please don't go all crazy and prove them right. Just keep calm until they discharge you."

"So you think I'm a nutter as well?" She wrapped her fingers around the pink bracelet trying to rip it off. It seemed like it was made of metal. Either that or she was weak from her injury.

"I didn't say that. But you do have an explosive temper. Just stay in your bed until they let you go." He stood up and grabbed her hands, trying to stop her from ripping off the bracelet.

"But it's a lie. I won't stand for it." She tried to bat away his hands. The strain caused her head to explode with pain again, and her hands betrayed her and reached for her skull. It was throbbing, and piercing, tears started to form in her eyes. "Why did you bring me here?" She moaned.

"Because you were in bad shape, don't be ungrateful. The emergency nurse thought Harry and Ron were in trouble as well. They were both covered in slime and blood. You were completely unconscious." George sat down again, running his hands through his orange hair. "Gave everyone a scare again, I'm afraid. You might have to start back at square one."

"Don't say that." She whispered, her eyes closed, her head pounding with every word she spoke. "I fell, that's all."

"But it's the reason why you did, Ginny." His voice was so upset she managed to crack open one eye. George had his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees. He kept pulling at his hair. She wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him, even as her head caused her eyes to snap shut again.

"I'll get better." She whispered.

"Let's hope so." George whispered back. A strange whirling sound came from above her bed. She opened her eyes and a large purple cloud burst from a gadget, she sucked in a surprised breath, and instantly fell asleep.

_Scribble, flap, beep. Scribble, flap, beep. She opened her eyes to a darkened hospital room. The pain in her head was mild now, and she reached up into her hair line and felt the row of stitches. It was an all white room, with white sheets, and white blankets, white tile, and white chairs. A small part of her felt relieved that the only pink she could see was still trapped to her wrist. She looked around for a yellow blanket, but there weren't any. There wasn't anyone in the room as well, which seemed out of place._

_Her door swung open and a familiar blonde walked through. Ginny couldn't help but smile at her._

_"Hi, Jenna."_

_"Ginny Weasley. I honestly had hoped I wouldn't see you again."_

_"Accidents happen." She grinned and felt her stitches again. Jenna smiled at her and grabbed her chart._

_"You know why I'm here, right?" She set the chart back down and looked at the scroll behind her head, documenting her every twitch._

_"So it wasn't for a visit?" Ginny frowned and hid her decorated wrist under her white blanket._

_"Why did you black out?"_

_"I wouldn't really call it a black out." She evaded. Panic bubbled in her stomach._

_"Harry, as well as your parents tell me this is a regular occurrence." She fluffed up her pillows and with a flick of her wand Ginny was sitting upright._

_"It's not anything I'm doing on purpose."_

_"So, it is a regular occurrence." Jenna frowned and pulled a small cube out of her pocket. With a swish of her wand it turned into a portfolio, she spread it across Ginny's bed and looked over the file._

_"I feel fine."_

_"You aren't fine. This isn't part of the recovery process. After you were discharged it would be normal for you to continue to have some night terrors, as well as some general depression. But to black out because of memories, that's not part of the disorder. You have something else. We've misdiagnosed you." Jenna continued to look over her file._

_"I'm sure it's nothing." She felt her voice falter._

_"It's something. Tell me," she looked up from the file. "What are you having flashbacks about?"_

_"At first it was things I was trying to forget. The battle, parts of my childhood, general nightmares. But now they are about things I had forgotten. I thought I was getting better." Her body broke out in a cold sweat, her stomach turned again._

_"You are getting better. I won't deny that. But we can't have you cracking your skull open every time someone makes you remember something. It says in your chart that you were admitted for a brief check up when you were eleven. Can you tell me about that?" Jenna looked down at the file, concentrating hard, her lips pursed._

_"I was possessed." She whispered. Her throat constricted and she felt her hands start to shake._

_"Really?" Jenna looked up surprised. The machines behind her started going into hyper drive and Jenna put a calming hand on her feet. "You aren't going to be admitted again. Don't think because I'm asking you questions and you have a pink bracelet that I'm going to throw you up on the fourth floor." Jenna squeezed her feet._

_"You sure?" She swallowed hard._

_"I'm positive. Now what were you possessed by?" She looked back down at the chart, flipping over a page._

_"Lord Voldemort."_

_Jenna was silent for a very long time. Staring at her file, then glancing at the door, biting her lip, finally she looked over at Ginny,_

_"We used to treat people who said that as insane."_

_"You don't anymore?" Ginny swallowed hard. Something about the steely quiet Jenna had dropped into made her uneasy._

_"No. Do you mind telling me what happened?" She closed the file, and with a flick of her wand the door locked. Ginny's eyes shot to the door, and then back at the waiting Jenna. Something seemed off about this whole situation._

_"Where's Harry? Where's my family?" She stuttered and pushed herself further into her pillows._

_"Gone. What happened when you were eleven?" She moved closer to her, almost crawling across the bed. The alarms behind her started screaming with bells and trills, she reached for her sheets and ripped them off her. But as she tried to get off the bed she found she was stuck. In a panic she looked back down at her legs and up again, face to face with Bellatrix Lestrange._

_"You're dead!" She screamed into her face._

_"Not quite." Her baby voice laughed, and Ginny punched her as hard as she could, she heard something snap, but Lestrange kept laughing. She punched her again, right on her nose, and Bellatrix reached out and grabbed her hands._

_"Let me go!" She screamed._

_"Calm down." Bellatrix laughed. Her hands clamped down even harder on her wrists._

_"You're dead! You're dead!" She screamed again, fighting as hard as she could against her restraining hands. Her sneering, ugly face didn't have a single bruise or scrape from all her beating._

_"Ginny wake up! Wake up!" Bellatrix yelled at her, and suddenly she was in a different hospital room._

She fought against the hands that were holding her and then looked over at Harry, shock across his features, and a bruise forming on his left eye.

"Oh no," she moaned and stopped fighting him. He let go, a hand immediately going to his injury, and she shrank into the bed.

"It's okay," he rubbed her shoulder with his free hand, still slightly pale.

"Is there a problem?" A voice asked from the door, a familiar one. Ginny's tears from her nightmare froze on her face. Jenna walked into the room, taking a look at Harry and then moving to her bed. "Is everything alright in here?"

"Let me see your arms!" Ginny demanded. She clenched her fists into balls, ready to fight her if she had too. They had taken her wand when she was admitted.

"Ginny?" Harry asked, confused. He still had his hand over his left eye. Jenna pulled up the sleeves on her jacket and flashed her forearms to Ginny and Harry.

"Satisfied?" Jenna waited until Ginny nodded her head and then pulled her sleeves back down. As she conjured an ice pack for Harry she checked all the machines around her head, silently.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"Don't be." Jenna answered back. She looked at her chart and gave her a nod. "You have every right to ask. You've both been through enough already."

Jenna quickly left after that and she closed her eyes, both relieved and embarrassed. She flexed her hand, the knuckles tender from her punch, and that caused her eyes to snap open. She threw her blankets off and sat up, her head swam with pain but she fought against it.

"Harry, I'm so sorry."

"S'okay. Isn't my first black eye." He shifted the ice pack, and then fumbled around for a chair. Her bare feet touched the cold floor and she looked down to realize she was wearing hospital scrubs; dark pink ones. She would never be able to escape the pink here. She took the few steps to stand in front of him and put her hand over his to move the ice pack away.

"Yikes." She hissed. It was already turning black and purple. She gingerly touched the outer edges of it and he let out a noise of discomfort. She quickly returned the ice pack to his eye. "Sorry."

"I'm just curious. Who were you screaming at?" He pressed the ice to his eye.

"Lestrange. Jenna morphed into her." She moved away from him, leaning against her bed.

"That explains the whole 'you're dead' comment."

"And the punch."

"And the several punches." He amended. She looked down at her bracelet covered wrist, shaking them around. "You're getting discharged tomorrow. You have a meeting with Jenna in the morning."

"A meeting?" She slipped back onto her bed.

"To figure out why you keep blacking out." He pulled the ice away and she sucked in a breath through her teeth.

"I'm really sorry."

"That bad, hu?" He frowned.

"I'm sure it's nothing the nurses couldn't fix." She smiled, hoping it would pacify him. Harry just shrugged his shoulders.

"Does your head hurt?" He put the ice back onto his eye.

"No." She lied. He raised a suspicious eyebrow at her. "So what happened with Mrs. Figg?" She closed her eyes as her brain pulsed for a moment.

"I inherited a cat. Well, a kneazle named Mr. Tibbles. I left him in your room."

"So, I inherited a kneazle named Mr. Tibbles." Ginny laughed, then grabbed her head in her hands, and laid back down on her bed, her dark pink scrubs clashing with the light brown sheets.

"No, he chose your room. I was told, by Hermione, that I needed to give him space and let him decide where he wanted to live." Harry kicked his feet up onto the rail of her hospital bed and leaned back in the chair.

"I hope we get along." She sighed and settled down in her pillows. "Where is everyone else? I saw George earlier."

"You saw George yesterday. You were asleep for 17 hours, so I guess that's some kind of coma. Your family is coming back tomorrow. I offered to stay with you." With one hand still pressing the ice to his face he took out his wand with his other and conjured a blanket, a yellow one. He tossed it to her, and then made one for himself.

"I just can't seem to scare you off. I keep fainting and punching and hitting you. You keep finding me covered in things, and yet here you sit." She wrapped the blanket around herself and leaned back.

"You're going to have to try harder then that to scare me off." He smiled and set the ice pack to the floor.

"Promise?" She whispered. A mix of guilt over his mangled face, and relief that he was finally back in front of her, swirled around inside her brain. Harry stood up, set the blanket into the chair and stopped at the edge of her bed.

"I promise." He whispered back, and then leaned forward to kiss her forehead. The second his lips touched her she felt it all through her body. It was a calming, loving, relaxing, and wonderful rush of endorphins that shot through her veins, to her fingertip, to her toes, to her chest. She let out a sigh of contentment,

"I love you."

"You need some sleep." Harry laughed, and kissed her forehead again. "I'm going to get my eye fixed. I'll be right back."

"Sure." She shrugged and watched him close the door. The second it clicked shut she let out a charged breath. Had she just said she loved him? To his face? And he brushed it off. What did that mean? Did he think she was crazy? Did he not believe her? What had she done? Why was she panicking about it?

The machines above her head started going off as her panic rose. She grabbed the yellow blanket in her fists and tried to figure out how she should feel about this development. She had suffered head trauma, but she had meant it, it was real. Was her concussion what made him brush it off, or maybe…maybe he didn't feel the same. She felt another turn of panic in her stomach. Would she always second guess his feelings for her? It was nothing; she was over thinking the whole exchange. But the panic continued to rise.

Her machines were starting to annoy her with their squawking, and that's when she saw the little snitch like fluttering ball hover in front of her face. By the time she recognized what it was about to do it was too late. A giant cloud of purple smoke exploded from the ball and she tried to hold her breath. It hung in the air around her, the machines still going wild, and her door opened. Harry gave her the most peculiar look, her lungs started to burn, and she took a breath. The purple cloud smothered her and she inhaled it instead of air. She saw him smiling before she felt the sleep take over.

* * *

~*~

"So, Miss Weasley, how do you feel?" Jenna sat in the chair next to her bed. She had conjured a table to set her file down on, and with hands folded over it looked up at her. Ginny had noticed that she was wearing short sleeves, and felt guilty about the whole nightmare exchange of yesterday.

"Better." She started. Her bed was made; a new change of clothes had been dropped off by her mother. She was about to be discharged, except for this meeting.

"Describe better. Do you mean in a physical or emotional context?"

"Which one are you asking about?" Ginny countered. Jenna smiled at the paperwork and turned a page.

"I'm going to be frank with you. I am impressed with your improvement. It usually takes some time for a witch or wizard to bounce back from what you endured. But it seems that whatever method was used to assist your healing had holes in it. It's not normal to be blacking out, and we'll need to fix that." Jenna turned another page.

"I agree." Ginny swallowed hard.

"I've talked to some fellow mediwizards about your condition and it would seem that what you have developed is unusual, but not unheard of. I need to get a better understanding about what triggers are causing your mind to shut off. It appears that a sort of sensory overload happens when you recall a memory, thus making you black out. Which memories seem to be causing the most trouble for you?" Jenna looked up, expectantly.

"All of them?" Ginny offered, playing with the bracelets on her wrist.

"Really?" Jenna's concern caused her to look back up.

"I don't really know what to tell you. At first it was all flashbacks. Lately it's just been memories. Not even threatening or disturbing ones, just ordinary memories."

"Interesting." Jenna nodded her head and then jotted something down with her quill. "Do you want to know what I think?"

"Please, anything that can stop this." Ginny leaned forward on the bed.

"My theory is that you're thinking too much." Jenna jotted something else down and then looked up at her. "I realize that memories aren't something that you can stop. But it appears that certain security restrictions are causing you to be forced to stay in a place so full of memory that you can't start to form new ones. It's like you're stuck in some Time Turner loop, constantly watching yourself and your family go through painful and memorable situations over and over again."

Jenna continued to look at her, waiting for her to digest the information.

"So what does that mean? Do I have to be sent away?" Dread filled her stomach, the only thing worse then the blackouts would be to be forced somewhere else.

"Perhaps. I know this sounds odd coming from a mediwizard, but I need for you to go back to school. And I want you to start playing Quidditch again." Jenna flipped another page, jotting down note after note. Ginny blanched for a second,

"But school is where most of my flashbacks come from."

"Yes, and it is imperative that you confront those emotions. The blackouts that you are having at home have to do with your grief over your brother's death. Any flashbacks you would have at school would be a result of your mind making amends with the wrongs that were forced upon you. I believe that in order to start healing and create any kind of closure you will need to attend Hogwarts for your last year." Jenna folded her hands over the paperwork. "And you need physical exercise. Your weight is a cause for concern. I feel any kind of potion that could make you gain weight would be excessive. I've read in your file that you were pretty active on your house Quidditch team, is that something you'd like to pursue again?"

"I guess."

"Excellent. I've heard that Hogwarts will be starting in the fall. So there really are only a few weeks to prepare yourself for the coming year. I think this is going to really change things for the better, Miss Weasley. I will be closely monitoring you throughout the year. You should make an appointment with the receptionist for us to meet again once the year starts. We can see how you are responding to the treatment and adjust as needed." Jenna snapped her file closed, put her quill away and stood. She stuck out her hand, waiting for Ginny to shake it back.

"Thank you." Ginny mumbled, and felt her limp hand being rattled around in Jenna's strong one. With a tap of Jenna's wand all her hospital bracelets were gone.

"Feel better. Keep in touch." Jenna grabbed the folder and left her alone in her room. She felt dizzy, the conversation had been so fast and professional she wasn't really sure what was accomplished during their meeting. She slipped on her jacket and went out into the lobby to make the next appointment with Jenna.

The witch at the receptionist desk gave her a blinding smile and then held out a scroll with a calendar on it.

"Go ahead and make your next appointment, dear. Just tap the day and it will tell you if Jenna's filled up or not." She ran over October 1st and the calendar disappeared to show an hour by hour list for that day. There was a slot open at 4PM, she wrote her name down. When she pulled away from the parchment it snapped back to the monthly calendar, and then rolled up automatically. When it was rolled it spit out a card with Jenna's contact information and the date and time of her appointment. She shoved it into her pocket and set the quill down.

"Is that it?"

"You're free to go." The witch said distractedly and blindly slapped around the counter for the scroll. Ginny looked to her left, then to her right, and then took off down the hall toward the waiting room. Back to her family, back to her home, and hopefully never back to the hospital.

* * *

~*~

The invitation had come with the morning post. On the front page of the Prophet was the headline, _Quidditch Begins_, the owl dropped the ministry letter right on top of it, for Harry.

"S'or you." Ron grumbled through his breakfast and passed the letter off. Harry had given her a glance before he opened the envelope and unfolded the letter. A stack of security badges fell out and her toast hit her plate.

"No way!" She incredulously yelled out and watched Ron choke on some cereal as he took it in. With a hard pat to his back Ron cleared his throat,

"Please tell me that is what I think it is."

"We've all been invited to the Minister's box for the opening of the Quidditch season." Harry let the letter drop to the table and she and Ron were already on their feet, laughing and bouncing with excitement.

"Can you believe it?" She grabbed his arms and started bouncing up and down.

"Yes! Yes!" He bounced with her. "I hope Malfoy walks by, oh I'd love to see his face." He laughed and grabbed her to give her a spin.

"Ah, put me down!" She laughed. Looking over at Harry, her mind still spinning, her mood darkened. "Oh, no you don't."

Ron froze next to her and looked over at Harry, "Please, please, Harry, you have to go."

"Your family can go." He looked down at the letter.

"But they are YOUR tickets." Ron countered.

"I'm sorry, Harry. We were rude. Maybe you didn't mean for us…" Ginny started.

"Who else am I going to invite?" He gave her a withering look.

"So, wait. I'm confused." Ron leaned against a chair and snatched a piece of bacon off the table. "If we can all go what was that about, Gin?"

"I've seen that look on his face before." She turned to Ron. "He's not going."

"Very funny," Ron laughed and looked over at Harry, whose face was still unreadable. "You're going."

"It might not be worth it." He frowned at the security passes.

"Might not be worth…" Ron stuttered to an angry stop. "Have you gone soft in the head? Are you daft?"

"Ron." She warned and felt the pain medication wear off instantly. Jenna had warned that the next few days might be painful due to the lingering concussion. They had filled her prescription, telling her at the time that it was just in case. After some wincing at the sun her mother had lorded over her and watched as she took the first dose the same afternoon as her discharge. She'd fallen asleep only to wake up this morning. She closed her eyes, pressing a palm into the still tender stitches on her head.

"I'm not daft!" Harry grumbled at him. "I'm thinking of everyone's safety. It's still not safe for us to be out in public."

"You think Death Eater's are going to try and raid the Minister's box on the opening night of Quidditch after we just finished a war?" Ron put his hands on his hips, a perfect imitation of their mother. Ginny felt the giggle and then winced as it rattled her brain around.

"They could." Harry glared at him.

"You're paranoid." Ron blew out a huff. "You're going, if you want to or not."

"I want to go," Harry pushed the passes away from him. "I'm just not sure if it's safe enough for everyone if I go."

"So we get some Aurors. Ginny, back me up here," Ron turned to her and she tried to manage a smile through the grimace. "Headache?"

"Yeah," she let out through her teeth.

"Want some of your…" Harry started to get up but she waved him off.

"The last thing I want is to slip into another coma. I'll just go lay down." She grabbed the throbbing side of her brain and slowly stood up from the table. They both watched her cautiously and stayed silent until she shut her door.

"You're going!" Ron boomed.

"You're annoying." Harry retorted. Then the front door slammed. She closed her eyes and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

* * *

~*~

Head still slightly tender to loud sounds she had managed to sit through most of dinner without a single twitch. Ron and Harry were still bickering about him going, although the rest of the family still had no idea. Almost everyone had made it to dinner, George and Ron still wearing their ugly orange robes, Charley flooed over saying he needed a break, Bill had hovered around a slightly swollen Fleur, Percy and Hermione were chatting up on some Ministry gossip, her father was tucking in, and her Mother, glowing with happiness turned to her,

"We never had a chance to ask yesterday, love. What did Jenna have to say?"

The table fell silent and all eyes turned to her. She swallowed hard, rubbed her head a bit and then looked down at her soup,

"I'm going back to Hogwarts."

"Fabulous Ginny!" Her father exclaimed and the rest of the family started chatting and congratulating her from all around the table. She felt his eyes before she could look up, dark, dark green bored into her. She gave him a quick glance, and then stared at the empty chair that was always left. Fred would have been happy for her. Harry's moody glare got under her skin and she stifled the urge to shoot him a dirty look. What was his problem anyway?

"This is wonderful! We'll have all the same classes, Ginny!" Hermione was almost bouncing with excitement. She gave her a smile.

"You should finish your schooling." Percy agreed. Her mother was dabbing at her eyes,

"I thought you might not go back. But this is fantastic news."

"I also have to try out for Quidditch, part of my therapy." She dropped off.

"No worries there. Good to know the Weasley name will carry on for one more year." Ron laughed. He nudged Harry from across the empty chair and turned back to the family. But Ginny had been watching, and Harry hadn't moved, he was still giving her the same stony look. She locked eyes and felt her mood darken considerable. Her family was still chattering and laughing at the news, when she stood up abruptly,

"Will you excuse us?"

"Us?" Ron looked up at her, but Harry rose from his seat and they both stormed off into the backyard, stunned silence in their wake. The screen door slammed shut and they both shot off a silencing charm at the door before looking at each other.

"What's your problem?" She seethed, pressing her palm into the side of her head.

"I didn't say anything." He glanced off into the backyard.

"Fine." She nodded, flicking her wand again and releasing the charm. "Be like that."

"Like what?" He turned around.

"What's the big deal? Why are you upset about this?" She crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently.

"You're not well."

She blanched for a second before an angry pool of blood rushed to her cheeks.

"Last time I checked mediwizard wasn't attached to your name."

"Sorry to be so concerned. Maybe I shouldn't care, but it's only been a few months since they released you the _first_ time from the hospital. And now you're going to be sent off to Hogwarts in a few weeks? It's too soon Ginny."

"Doesn't matter," she huffed and looked away. "It's decided, I have to go."

"You don't have to do anything." He growled and grabbed one of her still crossed arms. A fire swirled in her stomach, causing the angry blush to mix with an entirely new one. Frustrated with the reaction she stepped out of his touch.

"What if I wanted to, then?"

"Do you?" He crossed his own arms now. Both squaring off at each other.

"You'd rather have me waste my days here at home? I can't get a job without finishing Hogwarts. Maybe _you_ can, but I can't. No one would hire me."

He flinched like she'd slapped him. It had fired off without restraint, something she tried very hard to have around Harry, her temper getting the best of her. Her mind throbbed and she closed her eyes, the lingering silence seeming to make her comment seem worse and worse.

"Harry, Ginny, why don't you…" Hermione's voice came from the back screen.

"Go away!" They both snapped at her and she quickly disappeared. She pushed her hair out of the way and slammed her fist into the stitches, her head now throbbing with pain, each beat feeling like it was going to pop her eyeballs out of her skull. She dropped her head and let out a low breath,

"I need closure."

"On what?" He snapped, still vibrating anger. She glared at him,

"You know what. You were there." She felt the familiar woozy feeling start to fill her limbs, the world spinning slightly, darkening at the edges. She groaned internally, now was not the time to blackout again. She fought against the coming storm and then he looked at her, big mistake.

_"No one's coming little one, you're going to die here." Tom Riddle laughed as he looked down at her. The diary lay opened in a puddle of water, a staccato of drops echoing deeply into the tunnels around them._

_"Someone will come." She sniffled and continued to stare at the blank pages of the book that had gotten her here. The book that had ruined her life. The book that would kill her. She had never thought, when it had written back, that she would be facing death. But she should have known.  
_

_"He's not coming." Riddle laughed and disappeared into the catacombs twisting and twirling under Hogwarts. She closed her eyes and sobbed._

"Did she hit her head at all?" Her Mother's voice was right above her.

"No, I caught her." It was a mix of concern and disgruntled anger that poured out of Harry's voice. She felt her body tense with her own fury before she even registered the headache still pounding in her skull. Her Mum shifted an ice pack from her forehead to her stitches.

"Should we call the hospital?" Her father's voice was close as well. She struggled through her clenched teeth,

"Please, don't."

"Thank Merlin." Her Mother fluttered around her, moving the ice pack away. She opened her eyes, and found her entire family staring at her. Even Harry had momentarily dropped his angry crossed arms, guilt all over his face.

"Blackout. I just need some sleep. Ron?" She held out her hand and Ron froze, Harry frowned, and Hermione gave Ron a hard shove.

"Of course." He leaned forward and grabbed her hand to help her off the couch. They hit the stairs and he whispered,

"Any reason in particular?"

"I don't want to talk about it." She grumbled, knowing full and well that no one would have missed their exchange.

* * *

~*~

She stayed in her room for most of the morning, only making it down for lunch. Ron had given her a huge smile, sliding out a plate next to Harry. Harry continued to pick at his food, refusing to even look at her. She shook her head no and grabbed a sandwich on her way out the door.

"Where are you going?"

She turned around and saw both blue and green staring at her,

"Neville's."

Harry swallowed hard and looked back down at his plate, Ron shook his head disapprovingly, but she tossed her hair over her shoulder and slammed the door shut. With a satisfied, smug little smile she concentrated on the greenhouse and materialized with a cough. Neville swung his head around the corner of the open, dirty, glass door and gave her a bright smile.

"I was meaning to come see you today." He laughed.

"Needed a break." She frowned and quickly moved across the grass. Neville grabbed her into a light hug. When she pulled away he was holding a stand of her hair in his fingers,

"It's red. You must be feeling better." He tucked it behind her ear and she swallowed hard at the intimate gesture, a boyfriend kind of gesture. She moved away and looked out into the greenhouse.

"So what's new?"

"Oh, a lot of the same." He sighed and moved in front of her to tour through the flowers and ferns. She reached out for a beautifully odd red Iris. "Don't touch that." He said over his shoulder. She snapped her hand back just as it bared its teeth.

"Yikes." She held her hands close to her sides. "Does everything in here bite or maim me in some way?"

"No," Neville laughed. "You just seem to find the ones that do. Drawn to danger much?" He smirked over his shoulder. She stuck out her tongue.

"You have it backward, danger looks for me."

"Instigator." He countered.

"Enabler." She laughed and then saw over his shoulder the first hint of glass within the glass. Her smile faltered. Neville didn't seem to notice, or choose not to, since he rarely missed her change in moods.

"So let me guess, you are already out of Weeping Roses extract?"

"What? How did you?" She stuttered and stumbled on a patch of roots, falling into the back of him. Neville laughed and then held out an arm for her to steady herself with.

"Hermione. She told me about your accident."

"I guess you could call it that." She grumbled and finally managed to get upright; looking behind her the roots she had stumbled across were gone. She blinked hard for a moment and then turned back to Neville, who was already a few steps ahead of her.

"No matter, I've had a really great harvest." He stopped in front of the greenhouse. She moved up next to him. The emerald green taunted her, mixing with good and bad memories, she stewed in silence picking over in her brain every time green had held some kind of significance in her life.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine." She shot off.

"You don't seem fine." He countered, still looking at her profile as she glared at the roses.

"I'm going back to Hogwarts." She frowned at her reflection.

"But that's great news!" Neville exclaimed and pulled her into a sideway hug. "We'll be in all the same classes together! It will be like last year!" He continued to hug her, and she started to feel uncomfortable with his happiness. She moved out of the hug and moved toward the greenhouse within a greenhouse's door.

"So are these roses just harvested?"

"Um," he stopped for a moment, a huge grin still spread all over his face. "No. They've each had a few harvests, it would seem they are spent. If you look closely they are starting to turn darker."

"Jade."

"Pardon?" He moved over next to her.

"That color, it's called jade green." Her mind supplied the flashes of difference in her mind. What jade versus emerald meant in her world, in her definition, in her memory. Even purposely trying to keep him out of her thoughts wasn't working.

"At any rate, they're basically dead. Except for that one." He pointed at it through the glass. It shimmered and sparkled in the afternoon sun, calling to her, wanting her to tame it, turn it jade, like all the rest.

"Can I try?" She looked up at him, expecting the no.

"I don't see why not." He smiled and held open the door, handing her a vile from her pocket. Neville followed her in, not shutting the door like he usually did. She stepped up to the slightly bobbing rose and gently pushed her index and thumb into the velvet petals. The liquid ran quickly and clearly down into the vile and stopped short just before spilling over the top.

She released the rose and it bobbed back up into its jade companions, mixing with the leaves and thorns. She eyed them and then let out a breath. It hit the roses and to her astonishment they all quickly closed in on themselves, shriveled into a horrible yellow and black color, and then promptly all fell to her feet with a thump. She looked over at Neville, astonished, but he just continued to smile.

"Told you they were temperamental."

"Moody seems to be the better word. I just breathed on them."

"Maybe they were just waiting for the last one. They've been turning for a while now." He looked back down at the floor, now covered in what could pass as giant dead bumblebees, and kicked a few out of his way before he exited. She capped the extract and followed him. They silently made their way back to the front of the greenhouse.

"Are you sure you're alright? You seem pretty upset." He leaned against his worktable and appraised her.

"I got into a fight." She set the vile down on his table.

"With?" He prompted and waited.

"Harry." She looked out past his shoulder and frowned. "He wasn't very excited that I was going back."

"Any reason in particular?" He worded slowly and carefully.

"He thinks I'm still sick. Too sick to go." She raised an eyebrow at Neville and he put his hands up in front of himself, defensively.

"I didn't say anything, Ginny. I'm excited that you're coming back. And if you're ready, then don't let anyone stop you."

"I don't know if I am. It's part of my therapy from Jenna." She picked up a dead leaf from a nearby fern and turned it to flaky dust between her fingers.

"Come on," Neville took off his apron and threw it onto his worktop. "I'm taking you up on that butterbeer offer."

"I don't know, Neville." She shoved her hands into her jeans. Going out in public was still something she shied away from.

"If you don't want to, you don't have to. But if we only have a few weeks left before we're bombarded with homework again then we should get all the fun in now." He started walking backward toward the door, a huge bright smile across his face.

"You're right." She smiled back, tugging her light jacket closer to her body in preparation for the apparition.

"I'm always right." He laughed.

"I just let you think you are." She gave him a punch to the shoulder, and he grabbed her arm. With a pop they were gone.

* * *

~*~

About six butterbeers, and a large dinner on the house later she popped into her room. Through the darkness she fumbled around for her bed and when the box frame hit her shins fell into it, quite unceremoniously. A shrill alarm exploded into the silence of her room, red and blue lights started swirling around in the darkness, and a large, very bright flash, accompanied with purple smoke assaulted her. Her bedroom door banged open and she heard Ron's triumphant voice yell out,

"Caught you! You're out after curfew!"

She blinked again and again, but all she could see was a giant white dot mixed with streaking red and blue. Her head throbbed from both the excitement and sound, and Ron turned the lights on.

"Agh!" She yelled out, grabbing her skull.

"Are you drunk?" He laughed, his loud footsteps stomping across her wood floors.

"I have a concussion you twit!" She groaned and dipped her pounding head between her knees. Suddenly the noise and lights stopped and she could sense the room go back into darkness.

"Sorry, forgot."

"Obviously." She clenched her teeth together as the edge wore off. "Where did you find this horrible contraption?"

"The better question is why were you out so late?" Ron sat down next to her on her bed and she let go and leaned back against the wall.

"Can't I have fun?" She looked over at him in the moonlight.

"Why doesn't it involve me?" He smiled back.

"You were working. I know you didn't see me, but I tried to get your attention before we headed into the Three Broomsticks." She pushed her hair behind her ears.

"And who is we?" He crossed his arms.

"Well, Mum," she let it drip with sarcasm. "Neville and I met up with Hannah Abbott and Luna before going into the Three Broomsticks. I was then bombarded with photographers and reporters before they were kicked out, and then Seamus and Dean joined us." She shook her head at the memory, it had been horribly embarrassing.

"Looking for Harry, right?" Ron almost whispered.

"Yep." She responded.

"You'll get used to it." Ron mumbled and fumbled around with something in his hands. "Hermione took him off my hands tonight. He was in a right foul mood. They went to play Scrobble or Bunbble…some Muggle game."

"And you didn't think to alarm his bed?" She glared at him.

"Oh, I did." Ron flashed her a huge smile. He held up the box in his hands that had two sections which he had labeled Harry and Ginny. The red light next to her name was solid; the one next to Harry's was still blinking. "Silencing charms and a little apparition and I'll have blackmail for at least a month."

"Did George teach you this?" She flicked her wand to open her window wider, letting in a cool breeze.

"No, George and I developed it together. We thought we could market it to some of the parents that are coming through the stores." He put the box back into his lap.

"Traitor!" She shook her head reproachfully.

"Entrepreneur." He corrected. "And here I was thinking I was going to get some disgusting picture I could blackmail you both with for years." He leaned forward and picked something up off the floor, he handed over the magical picture of herself. Hair wild, pupils dilated, and a generally surprised expression on her face. She quickly set it aflame.

"Hey!" Ron tried to grab for it, but it turned to ash in his hand.

"You have no proof now." She shrugged out of her jacket. "Why didn't you go play Blunco?"

"Work. I went in early today. Like I said, he was in a foul mood." He stood up from her bed. "I know it's none of my business, but what happened?"

"It is none of your business, but it's not that hard to figure out." She turned on her desk lamp and moved to her closet to find some pajama's. "He doesn't want me to go back."

"But why?" Ron crossed his arms, the box still blinking.

"He's your best mate, you tell me." She stuck her head into her closet to find anything to wear to bed.

"No way, he's moved into boyfriend territory now. There are several things that instantly went off the list to talk about." Ron shook his head and gave her a kind of disgusted and embarrassed look.

"Well, he sure isn't acting like one." She growled into her closet. When she emerged she rose her eyebrows, prompting him for a response. Ron just frowned and shook his head.

"You're on your own."

"Lovely." She spat and threw her cotton bottoms and tank top at her desk. The box in Ron's hands lit up and before she could even respond he was gone. She knew she wouldn't hear anything, but a part of her wanted to be part of the prank. Her head throbbed, her mood darkened, and she picked up her pajama's instead.

* * *

~*~

_She pushed him up against the wall to slow him down, grabbed the front of his robes, and spun them quickly around so that her back was now up against the ancient stone. His hands landed on either side of her head and he looked down at her, confused, tense, worried,_

_"Pretend you're hitting on me!"_

_Neville leaned down close to her, his curly blond hair tickling her ear,_

_"Why am I doing this?"_

_At that moment a group of Slytherin 7th years turned the corner. She let her dark river of hair cover their faces, and raised an arched eyebrow at him._

_"Sneakascope started going off." She whispered. Neville leaned closer to her, his mouth right next to her ear, as the group got closer._

_"They'll still harass us. We should have run for it."_

_She released her clenched hands and let them slowly run down the front of his robes, something she knew drew all her boyfriends near the edge of control in the past, even Harry. Neville sucked in a startled breath and gave her a blazing look, right as the group passed. She'd timed it perfectly._

_"Get a room!" One of the boys yelled out and the group laughed, continuing on their way. Once they turned the corner she let go and dropped her hands to her side, but Neville seemed to still be stuck to the wall._

_"Neville, we've got to go. 4th year, Hufflepuff, in mortal peril, remember?"_

_"Right," he let out a nervous laugh and backed up. "Right." He shook his robes around and took off in front of her down the corridor._

She woke up with a start, her sheets twisted all around her legs. An uneasy feeling filled her stomach at the memory, or was flashback a better word? At the time she was just choosing the easiest diversion tactic, but she hasn't expected that reaction from Neville. Maybe it had been cruel, maybe there had been a better way, but it seemed the easiest at the time. She refused to let her mind wander any further then that. With an appraisal of her dry mouth, and the thin sheen of sweat the flashback had given her she ripped the covers off and made her way to the kitchen.

"Nightmare?" Harry's voice echoed in the empty living room. She glanced over at his shadowed form on the couch.

"Flashback." She offered and moved past him into the kitchen. "Are we talking again? I was under the impression that you were still acting like a four year old."

She grabbed a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water before she turned around. He was in the doorframe of the kitchen, sizing her up. She could feel his eyes roam over her, and suddenly felt quite hot. Flimsy pajama bottoms and her thin tank top were fine for sleeping, but maybe not running into someone in the middle of the night. He had on his own cotton bottoms and white t-shirt, looking quite dark and handsome.

"You were out late." He rumbled.

"So were you." She countered and looked at him over the rim of her glass as she took a small sip. She refused to let her irritation drop, she was still mad at him.

"Have fun?"

"You?"

They both nodded to each other. She finished off the glass and set it on the counter.

"Why are you up?"

"Thinking." He moved into the kitchen and leaned against the stove, now across from her. Her brain pounded around inside her mind and she closed her eyes. The headaches were supposed to go away after a couple of days, but hers just seemed to keep lingering around, tormenting her.

"About what?" She kept her eyes closed and grabbed onto the counter. She heard his pants ruffle in the silence and then felt his warm fingers push her hair away from the stitches on her head. She fought against the puddle of jelly her mind was trying to switch to. Just because he decided to show concern and touch her didn't warrant forgiveness.

"You shouldn't still have a headache." He said to her stitches and continued to gently move her hair around to get a better look.

"I think the ghoul bewitched me. Either that or my body has just given up on healing things. Maybe this was one too many concussions." She tiredly exhaled. His fingers brushed across the tight line, still tender, and she sucked back in a breath through her teeth.

"Sorry." He stepped back, out of her personal space.

"Tell me something," she reached over and refilled her glass of water. Harry continued to stare expectantly at her. "Were you always this stubborn?"

"Yeah." Annoyance flashed across the green. She took a long sip.

"I seem to remember you not being so…" she stopped and took another sip, "difficult the first time I dated you."

"You're the difficult one." He crossed his arms and smiled smugly at her.

"There's that stubborn streak."

"Says the girl that snuck out of her house to come fight at the castle."

"I was supposed to be there." The indignation thumped through her chest.

"You were supposed to stay safe." He dropped his arms.

"I had just as much right as anyone else. You lot needed as much help as you could get." She set the glass down on the counter with a clink. "Besides, it was _my_ Underground that got you into Hogwarts in the first place."

"I never wanted you to be there, Ginny." He took a few steps toward her. The anger exploded in her arms and legs, she felt the blood start to pool and heat all around her face. Her brain pounded uncomfortably and she bit out,

"Why?"

"Is it wrong that I didn't want you dead?" He fiercely snapped at her. "I know of at least one moment during that entire nightmare of a day where you almost did die."

"I dodged that." She snapped back.

"Can't you understand I didn't want you to dodge, or duck, or deflect, or run from danger. I…" He stuttered to a stop. "Never mind."

"No," she pushed off from the counter to stand right next to him. "I would hope, no I would _expect_ that whoever I was seeing would have enough confidence in my abilities that they would want me right next to them."

"I have no doubt…" He started, but she cut over him.

"Save it. I'm not eleven years old anymore, Harry. I can take care of myself."

"I know that." He fixed her with an intense stare, and then looked away running his fingers through his hair. "I know that."

When he looked back at her a flood of emotions crossed his face, so fast she couldn't read them. He let out a mirthless laugh, "Guess you don't need me around then?"

"How did you come to that very wrong conclusion?" She crossed her arms and glared.

"You don't like me much right now, and you obviously don't need me, so maybe…" He trailed off, running a hand across the back of his neck.

"Fighting with me isn't a cause for abandonment." A breath of laughter came out. She looked him over again, so close to her, and a place deep in her stomach burnt and twisted with emotion. She bit her lip. He looked down at her, bloodshot green, with dark purple bags hung on his tired face. "And the last time I checked my mouth was in need of a bodyguard. Are you still holding that position, or should I start taking interviews?"

"No interviews." He smiled down at her.

The darkness that had been lingering around them disappeared replaced by a deep throb that caused her eyes to take in his flimsy pajama's again. She saw the same change happen across his face. She felt his breath pick up a notch, and then her hands reached out for the bottom of his shirt. Harry let out a charged breath, and with her own startled 'oh' filling the silent kitchen, she suddenly felt herself stumbling back against the counter.

His hot body pushed up against her, his mouth finding her own in an instant, and she melted against him. Her mind swirled with a pulse of pain, but the thick lust quickly covered it over. A longing she hadn't acknowledged for the past few days took over her limbs and suddenly her hands could not stop moving across his skin. Her mouth sucking in quick gasps of air in between his crushing kisses. Flashes of the couch crossed her mind, and she grabbed at the bottom of his shirt, quickly and neatly sliding it up to his chest. Harry stopped for only a moment to throw it off and grabbed her around the waist, hoisting her up onto the counter, never breaking contact. Now slightly above him, she rained down frantic kisses across his face, all while his burning hands slipped up under her tank top.

With a long breath she tried to control the heat that flashed across her whole body, and the frantic twisting and throbbing in her stomach. His fingers inched up her back, and with a rough sounding groan he whispered against her throat,

"Jesus, Ginny."

She wasn't wearing a bra. All sorts of fantasy's that had occupied her mind for the last few years flashed across her mind as his flat white-hot hands roamed across her back, pushing her closer and closer to his chest. She wrapped her legs around his waist, ran her fingers through his hair and tugged back, his mouth quickly redirecting to hers. She tried to move closer, edging slowly off the lip of the counter. With a slight shift from Harry, she was in the air, her arms wrapped around his neck, his arms around her waist, her legs still locked around his waist.

"The table." The lust in her stomach told him and he swung them wide, knocking the glass to the floor with a loud crash. They both froze, looking at the water and glass sprayed far across the floor. With a loud swallow she unwrapped her legs from his waist and he slowly lowered her to the floor. She put a shaky hand through her hair and then waved her wand over the mess, cleaning it up instantly. If the distraction hadn't been there, she was quite sure what that would have escalated to. The lust now leaving her clouded brain, her body wasted no time in reminding her of the near constant pounding pain that returned to the back of her eyes and all across her head. She winced at a particular painful pump and felt his hand come across her shoulders,

"You okay?"

"Headache came back." She rubbed a fist into her eyeball, irritated more then anything now.

"Maybe some sleep?"

The twisted knot of lust in her stomach pulsed with her headache and she tried to push away the thought of a warm Harry curled up around her in her bed. The knot pulsed again and she felt her knees shake a bit at the possibility. She could always send him away when she finally did start to fall asleep. No harm there, right?

"Yeah." She answered and ran a hand absently toward where she thought his shirt would be, which wasn't there. Her fingers continued to move down, vaguely registering the lean muscle and heaving breath escaping him. Her fingers found the band of his pajamas and she gave a playful tug, letting the fabric snap back onto him. "Come on."

"Wow. Ah," he ran a hand over his face and looked at her again. Dark, dark green, twinkling in the low light of the kitchen, she gave him a smile. She took a few hesitant steps away from him and started moving toward the stairs. She heard him whispering to himself in the kitchen for a few seconds, and when her feet hit the first stair, giving off a soft creak, she heard the rustle of his pajama's hurry after her. He was stumbling after her, pulling his shirt back over his head. She frowned internally.

They hit her door and paused again. She put a shaky hand over the knob and turned it, opening it up to her empty room. She stepped inside and turned around, Harry had his arms crossed, and was staring very hard at her bed. His hair was sticking out at all angles. For the first time in a while she felt a line between them pull taught, separating Harry from her room. He looked up at her, utterly confused, torn really on what he should do. She didn't want confusion, she wanted him to be sure, she wanted to be sure, and the longer he stood there, the quicker the knot in her stomach started to unwind.

"It's okay. Go to bed."

"It's not that I don't want to." He finally looked up at her, pinning her to the floor with a look that could melt steal. "I want to."

"Me too." She whispered.

"Not like this."

"You're," she swallowed the bitter ball of disappointment and unfulfilled want in her throat, "right. You're right. Leave."

"Ginny." He made a step toward her room, the line vibrating.

"Leave before we do something stupid." She let out in a strangled voice.

"Maybe I should…" He moved again and she felt her momentary resolve start to slip.

"I can't tell you no again. You should go."

"Gone. I'm gone." He shook his head, seeming to clear it and backed out of the room. Taking off in a sprint up the stairs. With a swing of her wand she closed her door and let herself fall down onto her pillows. Her body continued to pulse with lust and pain before she fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

~*~

Author's Note:

This one was a struggle to get out, but it was worth it. Thanks go out to Courtney. I hope I'm making a believer out of you! Friendsofhagrid, again, thanks so much for you assistance! Many thanks and bottles of wine are on their way!


	10. Chapter 10

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 10~

_Say there ain't no use in pretending,_

_Your eyes give you away_

_Something inside you is feeling like I do,_

_We said all there is to say._

_Breakdown by Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers_

* * *

She felt electrically charged. Jumpy. Anxious. Wanting. The taught line that had been tested last night, in the dangerous hours of the morning, was still vibrating in the pit of her stomach, twisting and knotting. Confusing her. She flittered and fluttered around her room, her pajama's still tying her thoughts to what almost happened. She had made sure to keep her door open. Needing. Wanting. Hoping that he could cross the line and things would either explode or go back to as normal as they tended to have.

"Ginny?"

For a panic filled moment she didn't actually hear the voice, only her name, and her heart froze in her chest, thinking it was him. She whipped around to see her Mum standing in the doorway,

"You and Harry both slept in quite late. Ready for some breakfast?"

Her Mum smiled and waited for a response. She managed to nod her head and got up off her bed. She turned the words over in her mind and realized Ron hadn't been added into that mix.

"No Ron?"

"He's already left for work. Someone called in sick at the shop." Mrs. Weasley put a warm arm around her shoulder's squeezing her. "You look so much better dear."

"Thanks Mum," she told the stairs, unable to let her eyes rise. If they hit the table and he was there she wasn't quite sure what kind of physical reaction she might have. That and the word 'table' had taken on a new meaning now. They hit the landing and she looked up, meeting a dark, lusty green stare. He was still wearing his own pajama's. She felt her feet stick to the step, her mother let go and moved into the kitchen, and in a deep, rumbling voice he cleared his throat and mumbled,

"Morning."

She nodded to him and he looked down at the table, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. She decided to sit opposite him and slid the chair out with a loud scrape. The tingle ran through her limbs, but she tried to ignore it. Instead she looked at his head, still bowed down at the table. His hair was even messier then last night, sticking out and about, fuzzy and yet thick. Her finger twitched with an ache to fix it, pat it down, run it through her hands, and then grab it up and yank down to…

"Breakfast is served." Her mother announced and dropped a pan onto the table. She tried to think ice cold thoughts, but the blush raced across her skin like wildfire. Harry looked up at the breakfast, and saw her blush, a sly smile pulled across his face.

"It looks great, thanks Mrs. Weasley." He smiled at her.

"Tuck in you two. I have big plans for you both today." She hummed as she made her way towards the dirty dishes. She reached out, blindly, for the handle on the spoon and felt a shock run through her already humming body.

"Sorry." He rumbled. He grabbed the spoon out of her hand. "How much do you want?"

'All of it', crossed over her mind but she bit down on her lip. She needed to clear her head of any retorts that might get her into trouble today. They were both already on the edge. She was humming, but there was an almost frantic buzz around Harry, he was barely keeping it together.

"Just a little. Not hungry." The fragments made it out of her mouth and she looked down at her plate instead. The egg scramble plunked down onto her plate and they fell into a charged silence. Listening to her mother banging and humming away in the kitchen, and their own failed attempts to eat. After three bites of egg she pushed the plate away and grabbed her pumpkin juice. Far too charged up to eat she looked over her juice at him. Picking and pecking away at his food, he seemed to be in the same boat. With a frown at his breakfast he leaned back in his chair, attempting to look casual, and his foot slid across the floor to bump into her own. He didn't move it, and her heartbeat picked up in her chest. She forced some juice down and slid her own foot against his.

"So," her mother brightly announced to the room. Harry snapped his own foot back, banging his knee on the table, everything jostled, and she turned bright red. But her mother continued on. "I'm sending the two of you to Bill and Fleur's house today."

"For what?" She asked.

"To help her out with preparations, we still haven't been able to get over there. I would go but Mrs. Hornsby needs some assistance today with her garden. So that just leaves the two of you." Her mother fixed her with a probing stare. She stopped talking and quickly put a hand to her forehead. "You look flushed dear, are you alright?"

"Fine." But she was flushed, her whole body was flushed, and her stupid flimsy pajamas were not helping the situation. "I should get ready." She stood up with a start and moved around her Mum, but felt two pairs of eyes watching every step. Her body pulsed again and she focused on making her feet move into her room, both hating and loving the feeling that seemed would not be going away today.

* * *

Her Mum's arms filled with gardening tools and buckets of Merlin knew what else she ushered them toward the living room.

"Come along, come along. I've already told Fleur you were coming. She's having horrible morning sickness and staying home today. Do whatever she asks, and try to be helpful." She rose an eyebrow at Ginny.

"Why are you looking at me?" She huffed indignantly and crossed her arms, Harry let out a little laugh behind her.

"I'm not sure if they still have the wards set up on their own house, so you might as well floo over. I should be here when you get back tonight. Unless you stay for dinner. Just owl me." She distractedly picked through her bucket. Then her Mum looked up, smiled at them, threw a handful of floo into the fireplace and shot out of the living room.

"What do you think she's going to make us do?" Ginny asked the fireplace, still not able to make eye contact with Harry.

"Painting, assembling, moving furniture, weeding, general grunt work." He moved around her, careful not to touch, even though the space between them still crackled with a primal charge.

"Wonderful. More of the same this summer." She stepped into the fireplace next to him, still trying not to touch and grabbed a handful of floo. "Shell Cottage."

She tucked her elbows in tight and they shot off, up into the chimney and out into whatever it was that floo was able to do. Sometimes it felt a lot like appariting, other times it felt a lot like the moment right before you pass out. Today was an appariting kind of day, she felt her chest compress the longer they went whirling through space, finally landing with a thump in Fleur's fireplace. She sucked in a breath, stumbled against Harry, who was also breathing quite hard, and they fell, a sooty mess, to the floor.

"Oh!" Fleur let out a startled cry. "Why 'ello." She smiled from her loveseat. A book sprawled across her lap, and a bubbling, fizzing drink next to her on the table.

"Hi, Fleur," Ginny coughed, soot and ash mixing in with the air. She was still a mix of knees and elbows with Harry. The fireplace was a bit cramped, and they were struggling against each other to separate. With a frustrated kind of grunt Harry wrapped his hands around her upper arms, to stop her, and then untangled them both, offering a hand when he finally managed to right himself.

"Ginny, 'Arry, so good to see you both." She pushed the book aside and slowly started moving up from the couch. Ginny gave herself a pat down, floo and ash falling from her clothes. Harry was still looking around the house, distracted for some reason, so without thinking she started pounding out his clothes next. Her hands landed on his back and he tensed, snapped out of whatever memory he was lost in, but he didn't pull away. She smoothed her hands across his t-shirt, whisking and wiping the grim off, aware of the fact that her fingers tingled and itched to continue to touch him. Needing to touch him. Wanting to run up underneath…

"I am afraid I won't be of much 'elp. The dreaded Weasley morning sickness 'as taken hold." She frowned and grabbed her cup from the table, taking a small sip. Ginny realized her hands were still on Harry's back, his pulse pumping so hard she could feel the vibration in her palms. She glared at her hands like they had betrayed her. She had no control over her mind lately. If she wasn't passing out from memories, or having random panic attacks, now she was molesting Harry any chance she could get. She snapped her hands to her sides, shoving them into her pockets, and backing three steps away from him.

"It's alright," her voice came out thick. "That's what we're here for. Do your worst!"

"Magnificent." Fleur set her cup down and looked at her soot covered floor. Harry, not missing the look, instantly shot out a spell and the living room was immaculate again. "Follow me."

They exchanged a look between each other. This was going to be a trying afternoon. Fleur opened the door to a bright but empty room. The walls were still a dreary grey color, and nothing but paint cans and boxes of merchandise lay on the floor.

"This will be zee baby's room. Bill 'as been so busy, and I 'ave been much too sick. I was 'oping that you would be able to finish it today?"

"Er," Harry looked around, running a hand across his forehead.

"Um," she appraised the situation herself, there was no way. "We can try." She looked up at Fleur.

"The paint is on zee floor. I was thinking you could paint zee room first, we could 'ave some lunch, and then start to set up all the furniture." Fleur walked over to the cans of paint and with a flick of her wrist the lids popped off to reveal a shimmering yellow paint.

"It's lovely." Ginny leaned down to look at it. "Magical?"

"Yes," she put a hand onto her stomach. "It changes with zee sun. Light blues and pinks in zee morning, yellow in zee afternoon, and blue with twinkling stars at night. It's French. I 'ad it in my own room back 'ome." Fleur finished, swallowed hard, and with a fluttering of her hand took off down the hall.

"Is she okay?" Harry looked at the door.

"Morning sickness." Ginny grabbed a brush off the floor.

"But it's the afternoon." He grabbed one for himself.

"We should get going; magical paint takes a long time to dry." She dipped her brush into the bucket and swirled it around. She walked up to the doorjamb, set the bucket down, whipped out her wand, and with a quick charm had the brush floating midair. She started levitating it toward the ceiling, biting the side of her lip to concentrate, and let the first brush stroke sweep from the junction of the ceiling down a few feet and then stop. It came out midnight black, almost the color of Harry's hair, and then started the morphing pattern Fleur had told them about.

"How…what…I'm so lost." Harry stuttered behind her. She reached out, grabbed the brush and turned around. In her concentration she hadn't realized he was right behind her. The brush painted across his chest, leaving a dark black streak. She fell against the wall.

"Sorry. You shouldn't sneak up on me." She dropped the brush into the bucket, and looked up at her first stroke, a warm yellow on the grey walls. Harry's shirt was still going through the color scheme. He took a step closer, pinning her against the wall and looked up at her handiwork. Her chest fluttered, her stomach dropped, and her idle hands started twitching with excitement. He looked down at her, their eyes locked, a pant of air escaped from her chest, and the toilet flushed. Harry took a fumbling step back, realizing just how close they were, cleared his throat again and in a rough, strained voice asked,

"How do you do this? I've never painted with wizarding paint before."

"It's easy." It came out breathy and shallow in her chest, her heart still thumping madly against her ribcage. 'Knock it off!' She commanded to her body, it didn't respond. "All magical paint comes out black first, to make sure you get it on right. You work in small five to seven inch strokes, from top to bottom, up and down, gently and evenly, making sure you cover every inch of it…" She dropped off seeing Harry slowly start to turn red. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No. Sorry. Continue." He struggled to say, shifting again, grabbing his belt to readjust pants. Suddenly the words hit her and she blanched. Any red she had lingering from the flush he'd given her this morning would be nothing in comparison to the red she felt herself turn now. She turned away,

"Start at the door with me. We'll go opposite ways and meet up in the middle of the room. Start from the top," she paused, still mortified. "And work your way down."

"Of course." He mumbled and grabbed his own can. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him concentrate very hard on his brush and then follow the motions that she had done before. They had been painting in an embarrassed silence when Fleur appeared in the doorway again.

"I found this radio. Perhaps you'd like some music?" She set it down in the middle of the floor and turned it on. "I'm going to lay down for a little bit."

"Thanks!" They called out after her very pale form. She gave them a wave and disappeared around a corner.

"I thought this would be much easier. Like you just wave your wand and the room is painted." Harry continued to concentrate on his brush strokes, moving slowly across his half of the room.

"You could, but it wouldn't come out right. Some things just need to have a more human, rather then magical touch to it. This paint will last until they take it down now." She finished one wall and moved onto the next, the radio softly humming in the back of her mind.

"Does your house have any magical paint?"

"It might have. Maybe in Bills' room when he was a baby. It's quite expensive. This one Fleur picked out especially. Usually it just changes a few colors, not varying colors throughout the day. Must be because it's French." She finished in a perfect imitation of Fleur and giggled to herself. She turned to see Harry's shoulders bouncing with laughter as well.

They continued onward in comfortable silent companionship. She was now well aware of the dusting of paint drops that had fallen all across her shirt, and shoes, hair and face. She probably looked like a psychedelic rainbow right now. They edged closer and closer to the center of the room. Any calm she had been able to will over herself was starting to dissolve, and she soon found that she was moving faster then necessary to get closer to him. Harry, on the other hand, having no previous experience, was concentrating with such force that his forehead was scrunched into several lines. She wanted to run her fingers across and smooth them out.

"Beat you." She smiled and dropped her brush into her paint. He looked up, smattered with a morphing rainbow of paint, with one large swipe of yellow across his chest and grinned,

"Didn't know it was a competition."

"It's always a competition." She countered. "And you lost."

"So what did you win?" He finished off the last patch of paint and dropped his own brush with a plunk into the bucket. A bolt of heat raced down her spine, she tried to sound nonchalant,

"Oh, you know, the usual: fame, glory, bragging rights, and favors. You'd be surprised how many favors Ron owes me, to be called upon at any time."

"I bet," Harry nodded and moved toward her.

"So now you owe me one as well." She continued struggling to keep her voice light and playful, but powerful, large, overwhelming emotions were starting to boil just under her skin. He grinned at her again.

"Should I pay now, or later?"

The playful little laugh he tacked on to the end caused her hands to reach out and grab his shirt, still covered in sticky paint, and pull him toward her. They crashed against the wall, brushes flying out of the cans and slopping to the floor. Her head smacked against the back of his hand as he braced them both for the impact, kissing her frantically, his free hand roaming straight under the bottom seam of her shirt. He broke free from her mouth, she sucked in a ragged breath, and both crushed her forward and lifted her up against the wall. The whole time whispering her name against her throat in between his hot kisses,

"Ginny, Ginny, Ginny."

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she arched her neck to the side for better access. He started slipping in the paint from the brushes, their clothing sticking together from the still drying yellow on his shirt, she could taste it in her own mouth. She slipped down the wall, her ponytail messing with the friction, hair falling into her face, his lips now moving across her collarbone. She shoved her hands under his shirt, becoming even hotter when her fingers danced over the taught muscles across his back. Someone let out a moan, and her stomach burned with need. Then another one came, and the sound of hurried footsteps. Her eyes shot open, looking around the room, the moan came again but was quickly followed by a slamming door. Harry still hadn't stopped. His body, hot and ready, still had her pinned to the wall.

"Harry," she whispered to the still empty room. His misinterpreted her whisper, raking one hand down her back, his bitten nails scratching across her hot skin. She contracted against him, grabbing at his own back under his shirt, pressing her chest hard against him, her hot breath blowing a strand of hair out of her face. The moan turned into a gag and snapped her back into reality. "Harry, stop. You have to stop."

"What?" He whispered against her neck, his hands still moving around her in ways that made her core melt.

"Stop!" She pushed against him, he stumbled back, more paint falling onto the floor, just in time for them to both hear Fleur heave into the toilet and flush.

"Oh." He panted, seeming unable to catch his breath. "Sorry."

"It's fine." She shoved some loose hair behind her ear and waved her wand over the spilled paint, siphoning it off the ground and back into the can. Her hand was slightly shaky, hormones and blood still pounding through her body. "We should get back to work."

It seemed to be the safest thing to do. They were here to help Fleur, not spill her expensive paint all over her soon to be niece or nephew's floor in a moment of passion.

"Yeah. Sorry. I…" He trailed off. She gave him a sly smile,

"I'm not sorry. Consider it debt paid. Maybe we should start at the same time now for a real competition."

"You're on!" He grabbed his paint can and brush, and moved back over toward the door.

"You are going down, Potter!" She laughed and grabbed her own.

"I'd love to see you try."

"Everything okay in 'ere?" Fleur's calm voice interrupted their trash talking. She still looked slightly green.

"Going great. We might finish it all today!" Ginny smiled brightly at her. "Do you need anything? We heard you in the bathroom."

"No. I've been told there is nothing to do, just suffer." She leaned miserably against the doorjamb. Her eyes roamed across their progress and all three sets of eyes came across the smeared handprint running down the wall.

"Sorry," Harry shrugged, holding up his right hand. "I slipped."

"You will paint over it anyway." Fleur sighed. "The smell is…overwhelming." She backed out quickly and they heard the front door slam.

"Being pregnant must be horrible." Harry peaked his head around the corner. She looked at the handprint again and then lifted up her shirt, exposing her mid-drift. Just as she had expected yellow streak marks were all across her stomach. She wondered how bad it looked on her back. Before Harry could turn back around she dropped her shirt and charmed her brush.

"On your mark," she poised her brush at the wall and Harry's eyes flew at her, both shocked and determined. His own brush quickly stuck to the wall. "Get set."

"Go!" He yelled and she moved slightly away from the wall to get a better view. Harry did the same, and they started circling around the walls, stroke by stroke.

"You are so going to lose!" She laughed.

"Unlikely!" He shot off, his wand moving quick and fast across the walls, painting it black with an unnerving accuracy.

"When did you get so good?" She huffed and picked up the pace. Muffled and whispered charms and spells filled the small room as their sticky feet continued to stamp half footprints of yellow across the hard, stone floor. She turned the corner, looking out of the corner of her eye to see Harry already ahead of her.

"You should pay more attention to your painting."

"Do you ever look away?" She huffed.

"Peripheral vision, Ginny. I didn't waste time looking, I already saw you. The second you distract yourself is the second you lose."

"There's the Captain I remember!" She laughed. "McLaggen! I swear if you scream one more time! BAM! Bludger to the head. Sure were zeroed in your peripherals then, Captain."

"You sound like Ron."

"He is my brother. One of my many brothers who have schooled me in the art of trash talking." She gave a giant swipe at the wall making it to the final stretch.

"Still not distracted." He taunted her. She turned to her side, and started walking backward, still concentrating on the wall and the brush, and making sure her strokes were even, and kept moving until she ran right into him.

"What the…" He exclaimed and stumbled out of her way.

"Distracted now?" She stamped her foot across the floor, looking for his own.

"So now you're cheating?"

"Changed tactics." She made a dramatic swipe with her wand, spreading a thick line of black. They were closing in on each other.

"Sure you were sorted in the right house?" He joked.

"Sure you were?" She joked back, but he didn't say anything. She bumped into him again, swinging her free arm out to try and slap his wand hand down.

"Cheater!" He shoved back, making her stumble a little in her advance.

"Almost there…" She said more to herself and then looked to the side.

"Done." He already had his arms crossed, his brush in his paint, and the smuggest look across his face.

"How long have you been done?" She slashed the last strip of paint onto the wall.

"I told you," he leaned forward and tapped her right temple. "Peripherals."

"Peripherals," she grumbled and threw her brush in.

"I believe that you owe me a favor." He smirked. She took a deep breath, and then made a low bow,

"Whatever you wish, oh master painter." When she came back up she tucked the stray hairs that had fallen out of her horribly misshapen ponytail behind her ear. Her hair was damp with paint now. If the almost tie dyed appearance of Harry was an indication she was going to need to scrub this out for days.

"Should I collect the favor now, or later?" He took a few sticky steps across the floor toward her.

"That's your decision." She smiled. "Better use it wisely."

"Lunch?" Fleur asked from the doorway, smiling at both of them. There was a kind of loving gleam in her eye, she looked better then she had all morning. She must have liked the paint, Ginny deduced.

"I'm knackered." Harry grabbed her around the waist and gave her a lurch forward.

"You're lucky I let you win." She grumbled. He leaned down and kissed her paint covered hair,

"Yes, I am lucky."

Fleur absolutely beamed at them and with a flutter of robes took off back toward the kitchen.

"You won't be lucky if you get all this paint on her carpet." Ginny wiggled around until she was free and kicked off her shoes and socks, and then deposited her light jacket on the floor as well. Harry kicked off his shoes, and then took a look at his shirt, which was covered in paint. 'Yes, take it off.' Her mind chorused, but she bit her lip so hard that it split a little in her mouth and she tasted metal and salt. He shrugged and turned to go down the hall, taking extra precaution to not touch anything. 'Damn' the lusty voice in her head shouted dejectedly, she tried to mentally slap it and followed him toward lunch.

"I do apologize. Most foods make me gag. I ordered in some fish and chips from zee pub in town." Fleur pulled out two boxes from a brown paper bag and set them down on the table. Harry went to grab a seat and she tugged on the back of his shirt.

"Fleur, maybe we should sit outside. We're still covered in paint."

"Yes," she opened her eyes a little bit wider, seeming to actually see them for the first time. "I will bring it out to you. There is a nice little table where you can see zee ocean just to zee left of zee 'ouse."

"You don't have to do that." Harry reached out and grabbed both their meals. "We'd love to have you sit with us."

Agitation filled her chest but Ginny smiled as best she could.

"Yeah, Fleur. Come sit with us." She grabbed her own box out of Harry's hands and lifted the lid to look inside. Fleur took a breath to respond, stopped, put a hand over her mouth, and took off toward the bathroom again. They heard the door slam before walking out of the house.

"There must be something they can do for her." Harry shielded his eyes from the blinding sun of the afternoon.

"I'm not sure they can. But she's having a girl." Ginny pulled a French fry out of her box and popped it into her mouth.

"How do you know?" He stole one from her box.

"Well, my Mum had six boys before me, and not a single day of illness. Then I come along and she can't keep any food down, for half her pregnancy. Hence, the 'Dreaded Weasley Morning Sickness'. Fleur's having a girl."

They reached the little outside table, wrought iron, with chips of white paint falling off and revealing the rust from decades of sitting there. One chair had the wicker seat still intact; the other hadn't seemed to make it. Around the tiny clearing were ancient willows that spilled out over the sheer cliff to the swelling, frothing ocean below. Ginny moved to the edge, looking over at the deep blue water, the strong salty breeze blowing her multi-colored hair all over her face.

"Careful," his warm hand closed around her arm and tugged her back.

"I'm well aware of the sheer cliff situation. I have been here before you know."

She rolled her eyes, but moved away from the edge.

"So have I."

She paused, the smile falling off her face. It was the way he'd said it, a tense, tired, and altogether depressing sort of way. She watched as he broodingly looked off into the ocean, and then shaking his head, placed a small smile back onto his face and turned to her. Still trying to figure it out she hadn't faked a smile herself as he looked over, and the light and happy mood evaporated around them. This was the Harry she remembered, this was the Harry she had grown up with. A boy, aged too fast from a series of horrifying events in his life, trying in vain to be happy, but dark memories clouding every step. Something horrible had happened here.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

That was the other Harry she remembered, the one that infuriated her. Never giving out more information then necessary. It didn't seem fair that she could read his moods, but never hear his thoughts. Her assumptions were always spot on, this had something to do with last year, but she'd probably never know.

"Fine." She sat down on the only available chair and shoved some French fries in her mouth. Harry tossed his own food onto the table and opened the box, standing next to her as they ate in silence.

"I don't feel like talking about it." He finally broke down.

"It's okay." She quietly said and she meant it. The ocean current blew a salty breeze through the willows.

"It's just that we…" He started and she cut him off.

"Harry," she put a hand on his pants and he stuttered to a stop. "It's okay."

"Thanks." He exhaled and moved to face out toward the ocean and leaned against the table. "Think Fleur's going to make us lay down hardwood floors next?"

"Don't say things like that!" She threw a fry at him. "She'll get ideas."

"We painted the room too fast. I don't think she expected us to finish today." He threw a fry back at her, it landed in her hair and she picked it out, waggling it in front of him like an accusatory finger,

"That would be your fault."

"I thought you let me win." He grinned. "Or are you admitting I beat you?"

"I admit nothing of the sort." She haughtily retorted and aimed a fry right for his glasses. Harry grabbed a fist full of fries and cocked back his arm but paused as the brush and leaves crackled to reveal Fleur holding a pitcher of lemonade.

"Thirsty?"

She set the sweating pitcher down on the table along with three cups. Ginny jumped up out of her seat, French fries flying to the ground,

"Here, sit. Please."

"Thank you." She sat and poured out the drinks. "The room looks lovely. You both did such a good job. Do you still 'ave some energy to build zee crib?"

"Of course." Harry quickly answered and sipped.

"We've got nothing better to do, that's why we're here, until you make us leave." Ginny added and poured herself a second glass.

"Don't tempt me!" Fleur laughed. "Bill 'as been so busy many things are falling behind. He is very 'andy around zee house. I try, but zee baby…" She dropped off and touched her belly.

"So what's next?" Harry set his empty glass down.

"Well," Fleur batted her eyes at Harry, and Ginny clenched her jaw. Not only was her flirting annoying, but she knew that it was going to be something horrible. "I was thinking we could put zee floors in next?"

"What kind of floors?" Harry asked in a flat voice. She bit her already swollen and busted lip to keep from laughing herself.

"They are wood. It should not be very 'ard." She smiled and then said in a rush. "You two work so fast and well together. I would appreciate it so much. I feel unease that zee room is not ready. If we could just get zee floors in I would feel so much better."

"Whatever you want, Fleur." Ginny smiled and grabbed onto Harry's arm, hard, to keep from laughing. She beamed a smile at them, rose from her chair and started kissing them both on their cheeks, a rush of French falling from her lips. She smiled again and left the clearing. Ginny's shoulder's started to shake, her breath coming out in short bursts, attempting as best she could to not laugh out loud. Harry held up a hand, signaling to wait, and when she heard a door close in the distance both burst out laughing.

"You cursed us Harry!" She slapped his arm and bent over, laughter making her belly hurt.

"You did! You made painting the room a competition." He fell into the chair, shaking with laughter. Ginny wiped at her eyes and with her voice still bouncing with laughter imitated,

"Think Fleur's going to make us lay down hardwood floors next? Those were your exact words!"

"Maybe I did." He laughed one more time and started to settle down.

"I want Mum to know everything we did. I want some serious brownie points for today." She leaned against the table and took a final French fry from one of the boxes. The sea crashed against the cliff, the wind blew into her now stiff hair, and she wiggled her toes around in the grass and gravel surrounding the clearing.

A black thought tried to creep across her happiness. She hadn't been this happy in years; something bad was going to happen. Something was going to mare the memory of this day. She tried to push it away, mentally moving the building black into a corner of her mind. It was all in her head anyway, she ultimately had the control, didn't she?

She heard his feet move across the grass, and his hand spread across her back, down to her waist. She sighed, the burning returning to her stomach, breaking apart the black in her mind.

"Ready?"

"Let's do this." She smiled and stood.

* * *

It had to be very late into the afternoon by the time they were halfway done with the flooring. As a matter of fact, it was probably closer to dinner. She was covered in sweat, and the flecks of paint all over her skin was making her itchy and irritable. Fleur, in her unending annoyance, had bought Muggle hard wood floors. The nickname she had buried a year ago was starting to surface, there was indeed a lot of phlegm going around. As the afternoon wore on her morning sickness had started to subside, but the constant banging of the dark wood floors being clicked into place was giving her a headache. Since she couldn't take anything because of the baby she had finally decided to go take a walk to 'get away from all zee noise'.

The front door shut and Ginny fell across the unfinished floor of the room, letting out a huge sigh of exhaustion.

"Just stop for a minute, Harry."

He slammed a long piece of flooring into place and collapsed next to her. She had never been filthier. It was a different kind of dirty. Dust, grit, grime, paint, sealer, and Merlin knew what else was sticking all over her, including so much sweat that her stiff, paint covered clothes were starting to become moveable again.

"I hate her so much right now."

Harry just laughed, his voice echoing off the walls in the empty room. They were a pretty orange-red color now, matching the slowly setting sun.

"We should just finish and get home."

"You think we're going to finish?" She rolled to her side to look at him.

"We have to." He said to the ceiling.

"We don't _have_ to do anything. I refuse to let your weak judgment when it comes to my family get in the way this time. Bill can finish this."

"Weak judgment?" He rolled to his side to look at her. She propped her head up on her hand and narrowed her eyes,

"I didn't want to have to be the one to say this but you're kind of a suck up. Have been for years."

"You're lying." He smirked.

"Can't. Part of the Weasley sibling pact. We've got to keep each other in line. That's why Percy gets picked on so much, and Ron got picked on for being a Prefect. There has to be some checks and balances." She pulled at a piece of limp, damp hair, paint coming off in her hands.

"So why am I hearing about this now?" He reached his hand forward and pulled another piece of paint out of her hair. Several answers crossed her mind. The fact that he was who he was, regardless of the fact that no one liked to address it. The fact that he was her boyfriend. The fact that now he no longer had a death sentence hanging above his head. None of them seemed right, so she just smiled and shrugged. The sun set deeper in the sky, the room slightly morphing to a red-pink on the walls. He rolled across the floor so that he was now right up next to her, his face hitting at her chest.

"Maybe we should give up."

"That's the spirit." She laughed at his head and brought her hand up to run though his hair. It was thick and damp between her fingers, with a light sprinkling of paint. The throbbing burn in her stomach started to build the longer she played with his hair. The sun dipped lower, and as the walls faded to a pink and purple the light in the room dimmed. He still hadn't said anything, his eyes closed, body heat radiating all over her still dewy self. As the silence stretched on she became acutely aware of the tingling fear that was accompanying the heat in her core. They were alone, laying down, on the floor, close enough for her to hear his heartbeat which was steadily picking up.

She had learned with Michael, what felt like a lifetime ago, what silence and being horizontal could do to a teenage mind. They had stopped well before anything could happen, but the fear that had accompanied her raging hormones at the time was now pumping through her. But, unlike that innocent moment with Michael, she found that her smoldering lust was winning this battle. She wanted to be touched that way, kissed that way, loved that way. More importantly she wanted it to be Harry. His eyes, his lips, his hands. They had been dancing dangerously close to this line for too long now, one of them was going to step over. She had always assumed that she would know when she was ready, like some switch going off in her brain that would tell her that it was a good idea and to just go with it. No switch had been thrown, but her hand started to roam further down, her fingers massaging his neck.

His forehead moved forward to touch her paint covered shirt, the slow and steady breath from her chest moving them closer and closer. He shifted a tiny bit, and then his hand reached over, slipped under her shirt, and pulled her right up against him. The heat between them snapped and crackled in the air, blocking out any white noise that she was picking up before. His hand disappeared for a second, to grab his wand, and with a flick the door shut. They looked at each other for a moment, the room now full of shadows and pink light, and then his wand clattered to the ground.

Her stomach flipped, butterflies started wiggling around inside her, and the switch flicked on, illuminating the moment for her to see. The fear exited, she felt woozy with an utterly prepossessing need, his arm wrapped around her again, and then she rolled. Every inch of her was pressed against him, her hands on either side of his head, and feeling slightly shaky she leaned down to kiss him. It was soft, hesitant, and then she shifted her hips slightly for better balance and he groaned against her mouth.

It picked up from there. A strong arm around her waist as he kissed her deeper, then both hands on her hips as he shifted her up a bit to sit up. Her knees fell on either side of his legs, slightly elevated above him. With a warm tug she fell down into his lap, now straddling it. Her hand ran down his back, grabbed the shirt, and yanked. The frantic kissing broke apart for a moment for his shirt to be tossed with a whisper to the floor. She felt incredibly warm as everything she touched was flesh.

His hands ran up the back of her own shirt, and he locked eyes with her for a moment before she nodded and it too was tossed to the floor. She silently thanked every benevolent being in the universe for fating her to wear her nicer bra today, against all better judgment. Fumbling fingers raced across the back of the blue lace, running under her bra, but not taking it off. Instead he pushed her forward, his face and lips brushing across the fabric. With a frustrated huff he tossed his glasses to the floor. His lips touched her cleavage and she let out a soft, 'oh' as her body let out a shudder of desire. Her hips shifted against him, his own shifted in response, and then they were rolling again.

The roughness of the stone tiles rubbed against her exposed back, but that quickly left her mind as Harry's hands and lips started a trail of fire from her neck down to her pants. She felt a building, throbbing pressure as he ran his nose across the line of her still buttoned pants. His hot breath panting across her stomach and she squirmed with unparalleled desire. A moan escaped her as made a second pass, and she could feel him smile against her stomach. He started to make his way back up, kissing his way, and with one hand running under her body. Passing across her thighs, lingering for a moment on her backside, brushing over the small of her back, pulling her up against him as he reached her bra again, and with a snap the pressure was released, and a hot palm pressed against where the back of her bra should have been.

She was humming with anticipation, she could feel he was too as he pressed against her again. She opened her eyes for a moment, the room filled with a midnight blue and sparkling stars, it was almost like they were outside. In the darkness she ran her hands down his back, across his hips, and then pulled at his pants. He smiled into his lingering kiss, swiping his tongue lightly across her bottom lip and then bit down. She involuntarily bucked against his hips, white hot with desire, and whispered against his mouth,

"Oh, Harry."

He kissed her neck all the way down to her shoulder, moving her bra strap out of his way, and she started panting with sensory overload. In the back of her mind, as it started to fuzz off she heard humming. A kind of sing-song tinkling of humming, and then some words, but she couldn't make out the language. He pulled her second strap down, and she swore she felt his tongue run across her collarbones. She felt very close to some edge, pounding with desire, squirming and pressing against any flesh she could get, fingers moving all around his strong form. Everything on him was strong, every inch of flesh her fingers encountered was taught, defined, and devastatingly attractive muscle. She had the urge to lick it.

The song buzzed louder in her mind, and she recognized the language as French. Before she could get further then that Harry grabbed her ass and they shifted slightly, the tiny rocks and dirt rubbing into her back. Pleasure and pain at the same time. A deep, panting, 'Ah' escaped her chest and the singing abruptly stopped. The handle on the door shook, her breath seized in her chest, Harry paused, panting over her, and then they were blinking against a wave of bright light that filled the room. A string of French profanity escaped Fleur's mouth, clothes were being thrown at her by Harry, and then the door slammed shut again.

"Damn! Damn, damn, damn!" She moaned and tried to pull on her clothes as fast as possible. Harry was fumbling around the dark, looking for his glasses; she started patting the floor as well. He put them on, eyes wide and dark, and then there was a polite knock on the door.

"Can I come in?" Fleur's shaky voice asked.

"Yes." Harry answered, his voice still deep. They looked at each other for a moment, both still panting but tense with worry.

"I think you two 'ave been more then 'elpful today. It's dark. And dinner time. Maybe you should go." She couldn't look directly at them, and they couldn't look directly at her.

"Of course." Ginny quietly said, clearing her throat. She bent down to grab her jacket, and when she stood back up Fleur rolled her eyes at both of them.

"Your shirts are inside out."

"Thanks." Harry rumbled. Fleur turned away as they both turned away from each other and righted their shirts. Blood cooling panic filled her and Ginny looked up at her sister-in-law,

"Fleur," she started in a pleading tone.

"I am not saying anything. Zee was just 'as embarrassing for me."

"I'm sorry." Ginny pleaded again.

"I'm really sorry." Harry was next.

"Just go. Come back tomorrow to finish zee floor." She crossed her arms, moved against the open door, and bowed her head to let them pass. They came just short of running out of the house, clearing the apparition ward, and with a quick grab of her arm Harry shot them back toward the Burrow.

She saw her front door, and didn't even have time to let out a cuss before they were shot several feet back through the air, landing with a jarring thump against the gravel near her house. In his haste to get away Harry seemed to have forgotten the wards still up on her house. They had been spit back out.

"For the love of all that is holy," she moaned. Gravel was digging into her back, and the concussion that had finally started to subside was brought back with a vengeance as her brain rattled around from the fall. Harry was struggling to breathe, having had the wind knocked out of him, and laid on the ground, spread eagle.

"Could," he wheezed, "this get any worse?"

They heard two sets of footprints crunching across the gravel. Big, salty tears of injustice rolled down her cheeks, without warning. She sucked in a shaky breath, hearing Ron and Hermione laughing and chatting as they moved toward them. Harry sat up and scooted over toward her, still wincing and panting, attempting to catch his breath.

"Don't cry. I'm sorry. This is all my fault."

"I'm mortified." She cried to her hands, and then bit her lip to stop the sob. "It's not your fault."

"Forgot about the ward, eh?" Ron shouted from up the road. He and Hermione were both shadows bobbing up the path. Harry let out a grumbled, inaudible string of words and then stood, and offered a hand to help her up. As she moved, her head ringing with familiar pain, she hissed as his hand crossed over her back. He quickly let go, and waved his wand, bright light filling her tiny circle of hell.

"Crap, you're bleeding."

"From what?" She took a hitched breath.

"Looks like the gravel. Hold still." He put a strong hand on her shoulder and then poked at her back with his finger. She hissed with pain, but then heard a piece of rock hit the floor below them. He balled up the back of her shirt and pressed it hard against her wound. Hermione and Ron entered the ring of light, grinning. They took one look at the two of them and the smiles fell off their faces.

"We don't want to talk about it. We just want to go home." Harry announced and with a gentle push forward started walking right next to her. He still had pressure on her cut, and she wiped at her face. She didn't hear their footsteps follow, and when they reached the door he let go of her and opened it for them to pass through.

"How did it go at Bill and Fleur's?" Mrs. Weasley called out from the living room. They both shot off at the same time,

"Fine." And then took the stairs. She could feel her Mother's eyes trying to assess them, but they quickly made it to the first landing. Harry pulled her into her room with a swift move and closed the door behind him.

"Ginny." He started and stopped. She was at a loss for words herself. Anything that could be said felt embarrassing, and anything that should have been said was caught in the realm of feelings and emotions, not making it to words. Between the pounding of her skull, the pinching in her back, and the general exhaustion from the day, she was still slightly throbbing with need, and it annoyed her in the worst way. She felt unfulfilled, unsatisfied, and completely come undone.

They both looked battle weary. Covered in grime, and sweat, and paint, but still hyper aware of how close they had gotten to crossing a very final kind of line.

"You should take a shower." He said with a sigh and started backing toward the door. Her brain throbbed for an intense moment and she closed her eyes. When she opened them back up…he was gone.

* * *

_It was raining. It was always raining. Their last attempt to get a 3rd year Ravenclaw out had worked, but there was still a price to pay. She had been awake for 48 hours, afraid of sleep. Seamus had been hexed pretty bad trying to make it to the Underground with the kid. He was still up in the hospital wing. Everyone kept telling her it was no ones fault, but she was still shouldering the blame. If she could have just stalled the stupid patrol for a few moments longer. If she could have created a diversion to give them more time. She pulled at her hair for a moment, and then leaned back into the armchair. Above her she could hear people starting to stir, getting ready for the day of classes. She looked down at her own uniform, it was a bit wrinkled, but it would pass. Only people who were paying attention would notice, and people rarely paid attention to little details like that these days._

_"Ginny? Don't tell me you stayed up again." Neville came down the staircase and stood in front of her, arms crossed._

_"I can't sleep."_

_"Did you even try?"_

_She turned away and looked at the fire. She was tired, but when she closed her eyes all she saw were mistakes and nightmares. She didn't have the energy to argue. She grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulder before standing up. The world spun, her knees buckled, and everything went to black._

_"Exhaustion, stress, dehydration, and lack of food. Usually you only need one, she had all four. You should go back to class, she will be out for the rest of the day." Madame Pomfrey's shoes clicked away and she cracked open an eye at Neville. He had his hands over his face, shaking his head slowly._

_"It's not that bad. I'm not dead." She croaked. His hands snapped away and he narrowed his eyes at her,_

_"Could have fooled me."_

_"I'll be out of here soon enough. Any news?"_

_"Other then the whole school thought you were dead, no. You were so limp, and frail looking. Why did you do this to yourself, Ginny?" He was angry. Very angry. She shifted a little in her bed so she could get a better look at him,_

_"Because it had to be done."_

_"At what cost?" He countered._

_"At any cost. You and I both know that. I'm better off then Seamus"_

_"Ginny," he shook his head again. "If something would have happened to you…"_

_"You would have carried on." She grabbed his shirt and yanked as hard as she could muster. "You must promise me that. The Underground won't work if both of us are gone. If something happens to me you have to keep going."_

_"But." He stuttered, turning white._

_"No buts. Promise me." She tugged his shirt again._

_"I promise." He said in a quiet voice. Relief filled her chest and she started to feel the panicked edge of her thoughts muffle. The potion was working, she closed her eyes. Neville grabbed her hand and held onto it tightly, "Get better."_

_"I will." She slurred. He let go, she felt him lean over her bed and kiss her forehead. Before she could process it the potion took over and everything faded to black._

* * *

~*~

She woke up with a start. She'd forgotten all about her single stay in the hospital wing that year. More importantly she'd forgotten Neville kissed her.

"Rise and shine!" Her mother threw open her door and wordlessly flicked her wand to open all her windows. "Fleur must have kept you busy, you slept through dinner! You must be hungry, breakfast is ready."

"Hu?" She managed, but her Mum was already gone. She threw an arm over her face and groaned. She felt like she hadn't slept at all. Her body ached with pain, every part of her. Her skin was still slightly raw from having to scrub all the paint off. Her hair was a mess since it dried out overnight across her pillows. With a groan she sat up and then leaned down onto her legs.

"Not even a peep out of you last night. Whatever you two did at Fleur's you need to do every day so I can get some sleep." Ron laughed. She heard two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs, and turned to look right as they passed. Her eyes locked with Harry, and then he continued to stumble down the stairs. With a sigh she forced herself up and made it down to the table.

Ron was being entirely too chatty, his voice banged away in her head like a jackhammer.

"What do you want, love?" Her mother handed her a plate.

"Strong tea, and a pain potion." She grumbled and grabbed a piece of toast. She felt everyone's eyes land on her and took another bite.

"A little sore?" Her mother swished her wand and the potion flew into the dinning room.

"Headache came back." She served up some eggs and fruit and grabbed another piece of toast. She didn't want to meet anyone's eyes. Harry knew why her headache was back because technically it was his fault. All she wanted to do was eat and suffer whatever punishment was about to be dealt out. Her mother passed her a steaming cup of tea and the potion. She took a swig and handed it back to her, wrapping her hands around the mug and staring at the steam. Ron and Harry started banging away, her mother settled down at the table as well and right as she opened the paper an owl swooped in through the open window.

Her eyes met Harry's for a panicked second across the table. Her Mum opened the post and smiled,

"It's from Fleur."

She felt herself turn as pale as Harry suddenly looked.

"She said you two were both incredibly helpful yesterday. She wanted to make sure you could both come back and finish the room for her today." Her Mum continued to read the letter but didn't say anything else. Her expression wasn't changing, and summoning all the courage she could she cleared her throat and timidly asked,

"She didn't say anything else?"

Harry was grimacing at his eggs, cutting everything up into tiny pieces. Her mug shook a little in her hand, anticipating.

"No," her Mum smiled. "Just updates on Bill and the baby and how the paint turned out." She set the letter down and started in on the paper.

She saw Harry melt further down into his chair, still so white his scar was popping out behind the fringe across his forehead. She took a shaky sip and tried to eat her breakfast as best as her flipping stomach could.

They stood at the front door of Shell Cottage like it was the entrance to Azkaban. Nothing good was going to come from today. But if it meant the difference between having to owe a lifetime of favors to Fleur versus dealing with the possible spontaneous combustion of her Mother she'd take the abuse. Fleur would never be able to punish her the way her Mother could.

"Ready?" Harry rumbled next to her, making sure to keep a marked space between them today.

"Let's just get this over with." She sighed. They took a few steps and the front door opened. Fleur stood in the doorjamb watching every step, as they reached the door she silently walked through the house until they were back in their cell, the baby's room.

"Ginny, please come with me. 'Arry you can start on zee floors without her, yes?"

"Yes." He quickly answered and threw his jacket at the corner. She followed Fleur back into her bedroom, and stood very close to the door.

"Close it please." She commanded and went into her bathroom. Ginny felt a slick sweat cover her body, and the breakfast was threatening to come back up. Fleur came back out of the bathroom and gestured for her to sit down on the bed. She gently sat down on the edge and Fleur took a deep breath,

"I didn't tell Bill anything. I want to be clear about that first."

"Thank you." Her heart started picking up, like she was running.

"It occurred to me last night that you were at a 'orrible disadvantage in matters such as these." She pulled a small vile from her pocket and handed it over to her. "Growing up in a 'ouse full of boys. Not 'aving a sister. Your Mother was probably always busy. That doesn't make what you did on my floor right, but I 'ad some sympathy for you both."

"Thank you?" Ginny tried to make out what all Fleur's fragmented thoughts were moving toward. Fleur crossed her arms and flipped her hair over her shoulder,

"You don't even know what it is, do you?"

"This?" Ginny held it up, and then shrugged.

"Birth control, Ginny." Fleur moved toward her, popped the cap off and handed the bottle back. "I don't need it right now, obviously. Drink it."

"I…ah…but…" She stuttered, her heart hammering away in her chest, her body sweaty with embarrassment and confusion.

"It only takes one time. And maybe nothing 'as 'appened with you and 'Arry, but you need to know that there are consequences for listening to your 'ormones and not your 'ead!"

"But nothing happened." She stammered, the vile seeming to get heavier in her fingers.

"And what if I 'ad not come in? Are you so sure nothing would have 'appened? Do you even know zee spells to protect yourself? To find out if you're pregnant? Or would you 'ave waited until you were feeling ill before having someone take you to St. Mungo's?"

She didn't know. She didn't know any of those things, and the weight of that realization felt like a heavy stone in her stomach. What had she almost done? What had they almost done? Her breath started coming out fast and shallow.

"Relax." Fleur put her cold hands on her shoulders. "I didn't mean to scare you so bad. I just wanted you to know, and you are so stubborn, like your brother, that I thought scaring would be zee best way."

"Well, it worked." She panted. Fleur sat down next to her and grabbed the bottle out of her hands.

"You are not all that younger then me. I remember what young love is like. You get quite swept away." She smiled. "I remember 'Arry from his time at 'Ogwarts. Even then I thought he was quite 'andsome, not really my type, though. I know I am not your sister, and I am not your mother, but I do care for you. You remind me of Gabrielle. I just don't want you to have to make a mistake if I can 'elp it."

Her breath started to even out, and she relaxed against Fleur. It would be nice to have someone of the female variety on her side. She did have questions floating around in her head.

"Thank you." She smiled at her and took the vile back. "Will it interfere with my pain medication?"

"No. It does not interfere with anything." She gave her a beaming smile.

"How long does it last?" She held it closer to her mouth. Fleur laughed for a second, and then shook her head,

"Sorry. A month."

With one last look she put it to her lips and swallowed. It was slightly bitter, but smooth. Once it hit her stomach it disappeared, almost like she had taken a sip of water.

"Thank you. And thank you for not saying anything." She looked down at her hands.

"Ginny, I am French. I understand that passion drives us. It must be all this rain that makes zee English so stiff." She laughed and then put a hand to her stomach. "But you won't be working with 'Arry today."

"I understand." She nodded.

"I need my garden to be weeded."

Ginny nodded silently and stood. So she would be punished after all. She felt the smile spread across her face and moved toward the door.

* * *

~*~

Author's Note:

Courtney, where would I be without you? Pulling my hair out I believe would be a viable option! Gracias to Casca as well for politely telling me that having Ginny and Harry interrupted all the time was starting to get on her nerves! (I swear it will stop!) And a special thanks to friendsofhagrid for all the stellar Canon assistance!


	11. Chapter 11

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 11~

_Give me the first taste_

_Let it begin heaven cannot wait forever_

_Darling, just start the chase_

_I'll let you win, but you must make the endeavor_

_First Taste – Fiona Apple_

* * *

~*~

_She pushed through the barrier at Platform 9 ¾ and popped out on the other bustling side. Her Mum was quick behind her, and then they stood there. First looking at all the happy families kissing and waving goodbye, and then at the train filled with children waving and laughing. She felt black, as black as the smoke plume that was rose up from the glistening Hogwarts Express. As black as the clouds that were gathering in the distance. She had prepared herself for this lonely year on the platform, but it was still supposed to be a year away. She was done crying over this, all her tears had dried up long before she'd bought all her supplies._

_"Have a good year, love." Her Mum gave her a very sad smile, and wrapped her arms tightly around her. She wanted to stay, she didn't want to leave her home, she didn't want to suffer a year alone…no, now it would be two. And she could already feel their eyes, seeing her bright red hair, but not the usual accompanying three. Despite knowing that she could always sit with her friends, she didn't have the will nor the patients to take their looks and questions. She felt utterly alone. She gave her Mum a tight squeeze and then quickly let go, hustling to grab her things and just be done with it._

_"Bye, Mum."_

_"Ginny," she put a warm hand across her shoulders. "I love you."_

_"I love you too." She smiled, and then slung her backpack over her shoulder and pushed through the crowd. That's when the whispers started, not loud enough for her to actually hear what anyone was saying. But it didn't really matter; she already knew what they were saying. She glanced at the quickly filling compartments and made it all the way to the end before she found an empty one. She threw her bags above her and then leaned forward onto her knees and let her hair fall and cover her face._

_The door slid open and she sighed. Two sets of footsteps quietly entered and set their own belongings down._

_"Hi, Ginny."_

_She looked up to see Neville and Luna, and a swelling of hope filled her chest. These were the only two people left at this school that wouldn't hound her for information, or pester her with questions. Not like she knew any more then they did._

_"Hey Luna, Neville."_

_"So they're not coming?" Neville quietly asked._

_"No." She answered._

_"Do you even know where they are?" Luna asked next. She waited for a moment, trying to push down the panicked fear that always filled her chest when she tried to think about where they could be._

_"No."_

_"Did you see the paper this morning? About Snape?" Neville shifted in his seat, uncomfortable._

_"It's quite horrible." Luna leveled her wide eyes onto the both of them. "And the scanning of blood status just to get into Hogwarts this year?"_

_"I'm getting a bad feeling about this." Neville crossed his arms and she nodded in agreement, but looked out the window. "Someone's going to have to take over."_

_"Take over, what?" She snapped back to attention and narrowed her eyes at him. Neville swallowed hard for a moment and then dropped his arms._

_"Take over for _them_." He quietly said. "Harry would have never stood for this."_

_"Neither would your brother or Hermione." Luna quickly added._

_"You're right." She looked back out at the empty platform. "We will."  
_

_And the compartment fell into a charged silence. The train started moving, and the warning sky above them opened up, unleashing a rain as bleak as she felt.  
_

CRACK! Her eyes flew open, and a thundering boom rattled the panes in her window. The shutter started slapping hard against the side of the house and she ran her hands over her face before sitting up in the darkness. Her room filled with white light, and the boom echoed across the clearing in her backyard. Summer was officially over.

She stood up from her bed and shuffled over to the window, the strong wind blowing her loose hair all over, and tried to think through the haze as to what the spell was to close her windows. Lightning lit up the sky, so bright it was almost like looking at the sun, and then it seemed like some kind of levee in the sky busted and torrential rain pounded against the grass.

"This is crazy." She huffed, looking at it a little longer. The sleep cleared her mind and she flicked her wand at the shutters. She looked at her clock, 5AM. Great. Now she was awake. She grabbed a hair tie off her desk and then shuffled down toward the kitchen, turning on lights as she went. Throwing her hair up into a messy kind of knot at the back of her neck she hit the teapot and set it to boil. She felt a yawn build and closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling, and trying to wake up all at the same time.

"Morning."

"Shit!" She dropped her wand. Of course it was Harry. "Do you ever sleep?"

"Occasionally." He moved toward the cupboard behind her and pulled out two mugs. "Storm woke me up."

"Me too." She picked up her wand and poked at the tea kettle again. It was slowly boiling. Thunder clapped outside and lightning illuminated the tiny kitchen for a fraction of a second. An awkward silence filled the kitchen, and Ginny tucked some hair behind her ear, waiting for him to say anything. But there really wasn't anything to be said, and yet everything to say all at the same time.

Fleur had kept them apart all day. They even had to eat lunch separately, and when all the work was finished she had to Floo home, and Harry apparated. Harry didn't know about her discussion with Fleur and what she had taken. And a large part of her didn't want to ever tell him. The day apart had cooled the troubled water's of her hormones, she could think clearly, she could act accordingly, and most importantly she'd gain control over her mind again. Something so primal and urgent filled her when she'd touch Harry that she was afraid to touch him now. She'd never felt that way before. He was staring out at the storm, distant lightning reflecting off his glasses.

"So what are you doing today?" He asked, turning back around to face her.

"Not sure, really. I have to wait for my Hogwarts letter to go shopping for school. That's pretty much the only thing I have left to do before I leave." The kettle finally boiled and she pulled it off the stove and poured them both some water.

"When do you leave?" He asked his cup, not making eye contact.

"September 1st. But you already knew that." She grabbed her mug and stepped away from him.

"Just wanted to hear you say it." He blew onto his tea. The thunder and rain filled the kitchen with noise

"That I'm going? I don't have a choice. If going to Hogwarts is what is going to stop my blackouts then I'll go."

"But what if it doesn't? What if it makes them worse?" His voice was tight and anxious. "We won't be there to help you."

"Hermione will." She countered, grabbing her mug tighter as her buried anger started to resurface over this subject.

"I know that." He huffed.

"Neville will." She watched his hands clench around the mug.

"I'm well aware of that." He bit out, and a flash of jade green appraised her before looking back down at his tea.

"So then come back with me, Harry." She pleaded and took a step toward him.

"I can't." He took a step back, and looked away. Frustration flooded her and she tossed her tea into the sink. Suddenly she was tired, and she couldn't stand to be around him.

"Fine. Fine!" She shouted and then stormed out of the kitchen, slammed her door, and flung herself onto her bed. She'd never tried to sleep so hard in her life. Once the thunder rolled away she finally relaxed and drifted into it.

* * *

~*~

It was still raining when she woke up in the afternoon. Thoroughly depressed she just stared at the ceiling for a good twenty minutes before someone knocked politely on her door.

"Come in Hermione."

"How did you know it was me?" The door opened and Hermione closed it back behind her.

"You're the only one who knocks." She answered to the ceiling. Kicking her sheets off her legs she sat up and Hermione sat down.

"I'm worried about Harry."

"Why?" She worked on redoing her hair, unable to look directly at her. Irritation was still flooding through her at the mention of his name. Hermione glanced at her for a second, seeming confused by her lack of concern, but continued on.

"He's been quite moody, and quiet. Usually he only gets that way when he's about to do something very stupid."

"Like what?" She turned to face her now, unease making her stomach flip.

"Chase after Snape because he's 'up to something'. Hop on the backs of a bunch of thestrals to go 'save Sirius'. Almost kill Malfoy because he's 'evil'. Granted all these things panned out, but they were all incredibly dangerous and stupid."

"What stupid thing could he be cooking up now? There's no immediate threat."

"I don't know." Hermione chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. "But we won't know until it's too late to stop it."

"Have you ever thought of just asking him?" She stood up and stretched her sore body cracking and popping with relief.

"Have you?" Hermione countered.

"We're fighting." She told her closet, unable to take any kind of look from Hermione.

"Like that ever stopped you before. Honestly, Ginny. You've always been a wonderful voice of reason when it comes to him. He listens to you."

She grabbed some clothes out of her closet and set them down on her bed. Hermione was still expectantly waiting for an answer. The wind howled outside. Now would not be the day. They were all trapped here, the rain making any escape wet and unmanageable.

"We do it together."

"Okay." Hermione stood up and paused at the door. "Twenty minutes?"

"You're really concerned." Ginny frowned. Hermione nodded,

"I know Harry." She shut the door behind her and Ginny sighed,

"And apparently I don't."

* * *

~*~

They stood in front of Ron's room, the door closed, no noise coming out, and Ginny took a step back and then hip checked the door as hard as she could. It fired open and she stormed into the room,

"Alright you! What are you up to?"

"What? Ginny?" Harry shot out of his bed and fumbled around for his glasses. Hermione was still staring at the door, her mouth a perfect 'O'.

"A bit excessive." Hermione recovered and shuffled into the room.

"What's going on?" Harry scowled at them.

"You're up to something." Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. She put her hands on her hips and started tapping her foot.

"Like what?" He snapped. Ginny looked at Hermione and she took a deep breath before commenting,

"It's just that you get a certain way when you're working though something Harry. We," she paused to try and make an emphasis, "are just concerned."

"Noted." He growled and threw the covers off.

"So what is going on Harry? Why have you been so distracted? Why have you been brooding and not sleeping?" Hermione pushed. They watched as he moved over to the closet and pulled out some clothes. Harry let out a bitter laugh, and Ginny's arms fell. Her foot stopped tapping, and she instantly knew why. It was her.

"Hermione." She said in a quiet voice, but her friend ignored her.

"It's not good to keep things in. We can help you, whatever it is. We don't keep secrets, Harry." She started moving toward him. "I'm just worried that you're about to do something incredibly stupid."

"Hermione." Ginny tried again, a little louder. She finally looked over, annoyed, and shook her head. She turned back to Harry who took his pajama shirt off and changed quickly. Something odd flashed in her stomach. Jealousy? Left over lust? But whatever it was she didn't want Hermione to be there when Harry was changing. Then a dark voice in the back of her head told her that Hermione had probably seen Harry in more various stages of undress then she had. Hermione continued on like he hadn't just been shirtless for a moment.

"Not that you are stupid Harry. It's just that sometimes you act on impulse rather then reason. You need to think things through before you act. I have no idea what's got you so worked up, but it's not worth it."

"Oh it's worth it." Harry grumbled, and she felt herself turn tomato red.

"Hermione, please." Ginny moaned, and Hermione quickly turned around.

"Ginny I thought…" She paused. "Oh."

"Yeah." She said to the floor, mortified.

"I'll just," she started backing out of the room. The door clicked shut and all she could hear was the soft patter of rain. She turned back to him,

"What's really going on?"

"I found an apartment."

Their eyes met and her stomach dropped out. She sat down hard on his bed. He sat across from her on Ron's.

"But why? Why would you leave?"

"For the same reason I'm not going to sit on that bed with you. It's dangerous Ginny. This thing between us. I realized it yesterday. And if you're leaving for Hogwarts then I should leave."

"You know you don't have to. It's going to kill my Mum." She looked down at her hands. Even though she knew they hadn't done anything wrong, she still felt like she was being punished. The truth bubbled up into her mouth,

"Fleur made me take a dose of birth control."

"What?" He jumped up from Ron's bed and started pacing back and forth across the room.

"What did you think we were talking about? Quidditch?" She snapped at him.

"Did she say…" He started, but she cut over him.

"No."

"Good." He started pacing again. "Or maybe it's not good. Maybe she should have said something."

"So Bill could rip your arms off and beat you to death with them?" She quibbled and ran her fingers through her hair, pulling at the roots.

"Good point." He continued to pace and she melted further into his bed. The storm started to pick up outside. Shutters banging against the house, thunder in the distance.

"What does that mean for us? If you leave I'm never going to see you."

"That's not true. I'll be here all the time. But I need to start living on my own. I can't keep taking advantage of your Mum's hospitality."

"You're not." She countered.

"I know. But it's not just that. If you and Hermione are leaving, and Ron is working at the shops, then where does that leave me? Here, alone. I need to figure things out myself."

"And it can't be done here?" She completed his thought and he nodded, falling down onto Ron's bed. "When do you leave?"

"I could leave today. But I'm going to wait until after the opening match."

"Does anyone know?" She moved to the edge of the bed. A brooding dark green hit her from the opposite side of the room. She felt the familiar itch in her fingers, the heating of her core, the rush of blood pumping through her chest.

"Just you."

"You don't think this is a stupid idea, do you?" She took a deep breath.

"No, it's the smartest decision I could make."

Ginny nodded for a second and then stood up from the bed. She knew that even in this small room, with Hermione probably still at the door, and memories and trinkets of her brother all over the place she still wanted to do very bad things to Harry. Things that would only be stopped by an interruption and her house was never short on those. The idea of having a large empty apartment, with no interruptions was the makings of a beautiful disaster. But that wouldn't have occurred to a boy, even this boy. She needed him to at least get an idea of how taught this line was, how quickly it could snap. And in the pit of her stomach how badly she wanted it too. It was almost like Fleur had given her an excuse and a blessing at the same time.

She walked across the room and leaned over him, a piece of her hair escaped the knot and fell across his face as she whispered,

"What happens when there's no one there to stop us?"

He swallowed hard and looked up into her face.

"We don't?"

"Sure about that?" She leaned closer, his hands came up to grab her waist and she quickly pulled back, and then moved across the room to throw open the door. Hermione was staring at her, wide eyed and slightly pink in the face. That hadn't exactly worked as she had planned. But at least she knew which side of the line he was swaying toward. This would end up being her choice.

"He's fine. But he's still stupid." She huffed and pounded down the stairs. There was some silence before she heard a second set of sneakers after her.

"Ginny, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You wanted to know. Now you do." She continued down the stairs until she hit the landing of her bedroom. "And please don't share. I don't need nor want to know what you do with my brother."

"I didn't know things were so serious between the two of you." Hermione continued, her voice bouncing with every step.

"Neither did we until this week." She moved into her room and went tearing through her closet for a heavy jacket.

"It happens that way. Like this light turns on, and suddenly everything seems bright and right, and things that you were holding onto seem trivial." Hermione played with something on her desk and Ginny's hands stalled in her closet.

"Hermione? Have you…" Ginny trailed off, not able to force herself to say the words. She tried as best she could to not form any kind of mental image. Hermione raised an eyebrow and smirked, but she didn't look at her. Ginny's hands dropped to her side with surprise,

"When?" Then she held up her hands and started moving toward her. "No, don't answer that."

"Last month. Have you?"

"No." It came out as a sigh. She folded the jacket over her arm and glanced out at the still pouring rain.

"Do you want to? Are you ready?"

"Those are two very loaded questions."

"And?" She pushed. Ginny met her eyes and smirked. Hermione smiled back, and then they both laughed at their silent conversation. "Look, Ginny. I'm not Lavender or Parvati."

"Thank Merlin for that." Ginny interjected and Hermione smiled.

"But I would like to be your friend. I know, I know," she pacified her building outrage with a cold hand to her arm. "We are friends. But that always included some variation of Harry or your brother. I'd like it if just…we were friends."

"I'd like that too." She smiled, and felt it all the way down into her chest.

"Then let's get out of here. We can watch movies at my house. They'll be on a VCR, but they're still good."

"What's a VCR?" Ginny questioned and put her jacket on. Hermione let out a big laugh and started moving toward the door. He was standing in the living room, waiting. Her heart started pumping harder in her chest as she took him in, unruly black hair, and a hunter green jumper.

"Leaving you two?"

"Yes. Girls only. Maybe you should go help Ron at the shop." Hermione offered.

"Yeah, maybe." He ran a hand across the back of his neck and then leaned in close to her, attempting to give her a quick kiss goodbye. She turned her head and met his lips, and felt that bolt of white hot heat shoot down to her toes.

"Bye." She whispered against his lips and he slowly pulled away. She felt the room spin a bit, an electric charge between them humming with anticipation.

"For goodness sakes!" Hermione grabbed her arm and linked it through. "Seriously, Harry. You should find something to do with yourself today. We won't be back until later."

Ginny felt herself laugh at the way Hermione had worded it, but with a flash of her wand they were gone.

* * *

~*~

The rain was plunking down onto their hoods as they sloshed through the muddy water back toward the house. Even in the darkness of night lightning was still illuminating the sky, giving momentary flashes of the landscape, covered in water and looking more alive then it had all summer. Her boots splashed in a big puddle and Hermione laughed. It had been a wonderful afternoon. After the confusion over what a VCR was Mrs. Granger had brought out tea and biscuits and they had sprawled out over the couches and settled into three movies Hermione had chosen.

"So you can go to a theater and watch these on a very large screen?"

"Well only when they first come out." Hermione splashed next to her.

"How large?" Ginny slipped a little in the mud and let out a shriek of laughter.

"Like the side of a two story house. Very, very large. And the theaters are dark so everyone can see. It's quite a fun experience, maybe we should all go one night."

"Somehow I don't think Ron would shut up the entire time."

Hermione's answer was lost in the booming thunder, but she smiled at her anyway. They turned the slippery corner and huddled under the awning of her porch, struggling to get their boots off. Then they heard it, muffled shouting and hurried words.

"I should probably tell you." Ginny started but Hermione held up a hand.

"At the door, remember? This is going to be ugly, isn't it?"

"Very." She slowly opened the door and they walked into the house, their damp socks leaving footprints behind them.

"But you're so young! You wouldn't know the first thing about keeping house, or feeding yourself." Her Mother was bright eyed and flushed, very near tears.

"Now Molly," Her father put a pacifying hand onto her shoulder. "He's of age, and while I think of you as a son, Harry, we have no claim to you."

"I just don't want to be a burden." Harry said in a very low voice. Ron was next to him, sheet white, but the tiniest hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"You're never a burden, Harry." Her Mum waved a hand at her eyes, trying to stop tears. "My other children, yes. But never you!"

"Hey," Ron started, Ginny felt indignation herself, but kept her mouth shut. The boys seemed to have noticed them in the door jamb and the most pitiful pleading look crossed Ron's face.

"Mum, it's not like we're just going to disappear. We'll be here every day until Hogwarts, and then it will be like we went off to school with the rest of the lot." Ron offered in a soothing tone.

"We?" Hermione and Ginny said at the same time. Her parents spun around, seeming to notice them for the first time.

"He didn't tell you it was a two bedroom apartment did he?" Ron grumbled, and punched Harry in the shoulder.

"You knew?" Her Mother's screeching voice reached her and she stumbled into Hermione, scared.

"Only today. He told me today." She fumbled to find some courage against the blazing eyes of her Mother.

"Molly." Arthur tried to contain her.

"My children are conspiring against me. They don't want me in their lives anymore. Hiding secrets from me, moving out of our home." She fanned her face again, her voice slowly moving from angry to mournful. "It's too soon. It's just too soon."

The words hit her stomach, shattering the good mood she had been trying to hold onto. She had been trying so desperately to forget, to ignore, to push away the thought, but there it was…Fred. It was too soon, wasn't it? She kept trying to imagine that he was away on holiday, or just too busy to be around. The twins were always up to no good and scarce to be found. She had pushed him far from her thoughts, instead focusing on trivial things. She'd never even seen his grave. It was too soon. But that wasn't going to stop Harry, or Ron following him. Hermione was always right, he had made up his mind, and no amount of tears or blackmail or begging would get him to stay. Even though her father thought of him as a son, he hadn't lost a brother. He had every right to leave. But the thought of him being gone brought into sharp relief what an empty house would mean. Mourning. The house would mourn the loss of children; the house would have to mourn the loss of Fred. Without Harry and Ron and Hermione hanging around, like it was every other summer, they would all have to deal with the aftermath of what the war had given them.

The room had fallen silent. At first because of what her Mum had said, but now all eyes were on her, and she could feel their panicked worry that she was about to snap again. She was sad. She was upset. But there would be no snapping, that much her body and mind were in agreeance with, finally. She wanted very badly for things to stay the same. That happy, rosy colored memory of when the world was almost right, and things were almost normal. But the rolling thunder and wind outside reminded her instantly that everything had moved forward, and all she was holding onto was memories. Like smoke they lingered in the air choking her with their sulfur presence. It clicked in her mind, suddenly, and very acutely. Jenna had told her plainly that she had to make new memories. That she was holding on. She could see the smoky past on all the walls; feel the burn of it almost locking her in place. Her house was full of memory, and it would stand here smoldering unless someone had the courage to move forward. Her eyes fell on Harry, always shouldering the burden of doing what was right, even when he had no idea he was.

"It's time, Mum."

"Ginny," she broke off with a muffled sob, burying her head into her father's shoulder.

"We can't keep pretending Fred isn't d..dead. We can't keep ignoring that we've all grown up. It's time to move forward."

Hermione put a strong arm across her shoulders and she leaned up against her, relieved that she was there.

"I…can't…" Her Mum continued to sob into her father, wrecking sobs that shook her completely. She felt herself move before she even thought it; Ron was on his feet in a flash as well. The wrapped themselves around her and squeezed as hard as they could. Her Mum continued to sob, "I can't. I can't."

"You don't have to." Ginny felt the tears burn behind her eyes. "But we do."

The living room seemed to disappear before her. She was only aware of Ron rubbing their Mother's back, his other hand lightly grabbing her wrist. She was hugging as much of her Mum as she could, and their Father seemed to be wrapped around them all. Sobs continued to rock her Mum making them all shake with their intensity. Her cheeks were hot and wet, Ron's eyes were shining, and her Father was stoic.

"It will be okay, Mum." Ron soothed, continuing to rub her back. "We'll get through this."

"I know." She took in a few shuddering breaths. "I know it will."

She started to feel the room spin, darkening around the edges. The intense emotions of the moment threatening to overload her brain, she grabbed onto Ron's arm in an attempt to stay with the present. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, and felt herself start to slump.

"Somebody," she panted, throwing open her eyes. "Somebody slap me."

Then she felt Ron pinch her quite hard and the darkness started to fade around the corners. She let go of her Mum and dropped to her knees, but Ron had never let go of her hand, and her right hand was still high in the air. He pinched her again, and she winced in a short breath. The pain registered softly through the dark. Slowly the room swam back into focus, and she looked up at her family.

"If all we had to do was beat you up to keep you conscious I would have happily obliged weeks ago." Ron dead panned, and her Dad let out a bark of laughter. It was so bright and unexpected Ron joined too, and then her Mum smiled through her still pouring tears and bent down to eye level with her.

"Good job, dear."

"It was nothing." She panted and put a hand across her pounding forehead. Fighting the blackout had triggered the headache again. And now her arm was bruised. "You still have me, Mum. I'm not leaving."

"I know, love." She smiled and pulled her close. "But I highly doubt you'll want to stay here in this empty house when your friends are all somewhere else."

"Friends are overrated." She grinned against her Mum's shoulder and felt a bubble of laughter shake the loving embrace. Then her Mum was all tears again.

"Come now, Molly. Let's get you upstairs and I'll make you a cup of tea." Her Dad soothed, and gave a supportive hand. She nodded and then let herself be guided toward the stairs. Ginny looked around and found that Harry and Hermione had disappeared amidst it all.

"Alright, there?" Ron put a heavy warm palm on her shoulder.

"I need to see it."

Without another word Ron helped her to her feet, and with what felt like the thousandth POP of the summer, they were jetting through space.

It was quiet; but not ironically enough, deadly quiet. The storm had already passed through this part of town. Patches of the graveyard were shimmering with the dewy twilight. Moonlight was bouncing off the tops of headstones. Gusts of wind would kick up and blow the trees and grass around, showering them with droplets of leftover rain. She was still stuck in place, staring at the giant black gate that stood before them. It had to be three stories high, and an ancient kind of black. It dripped with rain, and sparkled as clouds quickly passed over, droplets catching on the spider webs hanging between the wrought iron bars.

"Ready?" His voice was steady and low. She nodded and they moved toward the gate. Silently it opened to let them through, and just as silently closed behind them. It would have been a peaceful sort of place if there had been noise. Crickets, lighting bugs, even grasshoppers would have been a welcomed addition. But all that whispered through the trees was wind, and an echoing sort of finality that no white noise creates. Ron weaved through the muddy path, passing hundreds and hundreds of headstones. Some where marble, some green or yellowing stone. Others were crosses or angels; she thought she even saw a dragon. They continued to move, and she shivered, realizing for the first time that she wasn't wearing any shoes. Her socks slipped and slid around in the mud, and she welcomed it. This walk wasn't supposed to be easy.

Ron started to slow, and then moved across the grass, careful to avoid some unknown space between the markers, almost like he was afraid to step on a grave. Then he stopped, and turned in front of a simple gleaming white marble stone marker. It was an angular box of white, with dark black etching almost burned into the stone. There were still an abundance of flowers, now destroyed by rain, and trinkets littering the ground around the stone. She moved to stand right next to him and looked at it without seeing it. Then her knees gave out and she was face to face with the reality of it.

_Fred Weasley_

_1978 - 1998_

_Son. Brother. Friend._

It didn't seem right. Fred was always so much more then that. It was almost insulting to sum up his life in three words. He was so many more words then that, those three words didn't even begin to hint at the kind of person he was. She felt angry at the stone. It was insulting his memory. Water started to seep into her jeans, making her shiver further. She wished she would have at least kept her coat on. It was a humid sort of night, but with so little body fat these days' even nights like these made her cold. Ron sighed next to her, but didn't move. She looked at the stone again, waiting to feel some kind of closure. All she felt was angry and alone.

"He's not here."

"I know." Ron sighed again. "I thought, the first time, that I would feel closure looking at this. But I don't."

"But isn't this what it's for? Isn't the grave really for family? I mean what would Fred actually do with this?"

"Wasn't much help for Harry either." He looked down at her, "last year. Hermione told me it's like he was able to finalize some picture in his brain, but she didn't see any kind of real change within him. Maybe we weren't paying attention, it was a difficult time. Maybe it did help."

"It was different I bet. Seeing the graves of people he never knew. But we knew Fred. Through and through. I don't feel him here. I don't feel any kind of closure. I just feel angry." She leaned back onto her muddy heals, aware but not caring that she was messing up her pants.

"Join the club." He grumbled. "I'm done being sad about him dying. I'm just angry. And this," he gestured toward the grave almost dismissively. "It's nothing but stone. Some stone marker to let everyone know that Fred was once alive, but now he's dead. I don't need some expensive marble block telling me my brother is dead, I know he is. I see him everywhere, I see his exact replica every day. And Fred will never be here. Would never be here. Fred is more important then this, Fred was better then this, he deserved more then this, but what more could we give him? I would sell everything I owned if I knew. But it's not like he needs it now. I think it would just make me feel better. Give it some kind of meaning. Because, honestly, Ginny…I'm still lost without him."

"Me too." She cried, overcome with emotions that had suddenly flooded her. She had never known her brother to give passionate speeches, but it was so close to how she felt that it was almost as if it had come from her own mouth.

"Sometimes I swear I see him. Stirring a caldron, or coming down the stairs at home. It's never me mistaking George with him, it's him. Does that make me crazy?"

"No." She said firmly through her tears. She looked at all the beaten flowers, their petals littering the grave site. Tiny trinkets were tucked tightly between the grass and the marker. Notes that were charmed to never get wet or blow away, were folded or rolled on a variety of different kinds of paper and stuck to the ground. Pictures and drawings also charmed to stay dry and close to the grave were blowing gently in the wind. Someone had left a set of chocolate Quidditch treats. There were varying degrees of dangerous fireworks and trick quills, shoved into the grass to keep them from floating off.

But nothing, not a single thing, appeared to be from her family. These were all mementoes from classmates, reminders from friends. Left there so they could leave some piece of Fred there, so they could have the minor sort of closure a friend has when someone dies. Now they could hang onto their memories, and know that at least one part of that connected back to a grave they would probably never see again. Their mind making that connection seem fitting, just.

"What was he wearing?"

"I don't know, Ginny." He said in a strained voice. "I couldn't look."

The wind blew through hard, pelting them with freezing drops of water. Her arms snapped around her slight frame, and she registered that her knees had gone numb.

"What was said?"

"I blocked it out." Ron rumbled next to her, his voice growing thick. "Something about heroes and being brave. Bullshit, really."

"What did the casket look like?"

"White, like the marker."

The answers gave no relief. She had missed this. Mourning in her own way, choking and screaming against restraining hands, as they had carried and then lowered her brother into his grave. She'd thought maybe the details would have helped; maybe that was the missing piece. But Fred still wasn't here, and probably never would be. His spirit was still evading her, and yet she didn't know where to find it. Like Ron she would have sold the clothes on her back to find him, but closure seemed to be a harsh mistress.

"Thank you for taking me."

He nodded curtly and then stuck out a hand for her to get back up. He slipped his fingers through and they started the long walk back to the front gates, slipping and sliding around in silence, the wind causing wave over wave of goose bumps to ripple across her skin. Without any motion from them at all the gate opened back up and they left.

This time the apparition made her head spin. The pounding at the front of her brain made it hard to concentrate. Ron didn't let go of her hand, and they walked through the light rain back toward the house. Drenched by the time they made it to the door, Ron swung it open and Harry and Hermione turned to see them. They were playing cards at the table, waiting. No words were spoken, Ron let go of her hand, and then they both moved, dripping with water, to the stairs.

It fluttered in her chest at first, an awareness of…something. She let her muddy, numb feet continue to climb, passing her room, passing all the other rooms, stopping in front of the stairs for the attic. She opened the door, moved up the stairs, not even afraid of the ghoul.

"Lumos." She quietly said, and there it was. Uncovered due to her fall, and gleaming underneath the light of her wand. She walked toward it, her slowly drying feet suctioning to the ground as she moved. The laboratory blossomed before her, and in the back of her mind she head his voice,

_"Better not touch that Ginbug."_

She sank to the floor, leaning up against the other boxes, and looked up at the first kit that had started all the mischief in her brother's short life. It clicked into place in her heart, and she knew she'd found him,

"Hi, Fred." She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, and then leaned out and touched the leg of the table. Cold but familiar, it warmed up to her touch, and she remembered. Not the Fred that haunted her blackouts and nightmares. Not the Fred that was a burnt memory of castle dust and happy expressions on the Great Hall table. Not even the Fred that Ron had described in a vague way, deep and silent in the ground. She remembered her brother. His carefree smiles, his quick and busy hands, his fierce loyalty and protection of the family, the playful way he made any situation funny, his joking, his tricks, his experiments, and his knowing smirk. But most importantly, the things she held onto, the small piece of reassurance, was the nickname he'd given her, and the way it came out of only his mouth, Ginbug. She'd always have that. And if she always had that, then she'd always have Fred. And if she needed to find him, she could close her eyes, and see that room full of different colored smokes and bubbling potions. See the way he would smile, the way his eyes would twinkle, and the way, unlike any of her other brothers, there would be a soft and loving edge to the way he'd say it, Ginbug. It was hers alone.

She let go of the table and wiped her hand across her face, now covered in tears and mud, and Merlin knew what else. She stood, her body still shaky with cold and emotion, and touched the table one last time.

"Bye, Fred."

* * *

~*~

She was ripping through her closet. Each toss of a shirt or a shoe making a soft thump as it hit the pile. Each movement causing her head to throb just the tiniest bit near her forming scar, she was beginning to think her headaches would never go away.

"Damn!" She cursed again and tossed a shoebox out into the slowly disappearing floor of her room.

"Ginny?" Harry's worried voice came from her door.

"Busy." She shouted and tossed another clump of clothes to the growing disaster.

When she tossed out the next empty shoebox it made a solid noise which caused her to look up, Harry was twirling the empty box between his hands.

"Maybe we shouldn't go."

"Don't you dare!" She growled and plunged back into her closet. "I refuse to let you martyr yourself for this." Her head pulsed and she stopped for a moment to press her palm hard against the throbbing scar on the side of her head. At least she had hair to cover it. It was such a dully, achy pain that it annoyed more then hurt.

"I appreciate it. I really do, but maybe they are right. Maybe this isn't safe enough." Harry's voice was muffled by her closet door. Ginny stopped, pulled herself out and sat on the floor to look up at him.

"We only have three weeks left."

"I know." He set the box down on the wreckage.

"You wouldn't know, you don't understand." She huffed and dove back into the closet. She caught his both surprised and annoyed look. She lit her wand and started digging back into the areas that she had left for dead years ago. It had to be there.

"What do you mean I don't understand?"

"You don't have siblings." She shouted. "You don't know that when they leave for Hogwarts they come back different. You don't know that they're too busy to write, and too busy to Floo, and too busy to care. You just don't know."

"Ginny," he grumbled and she heard her bed squeak.

Then it appeared, by the light of her wand, the Holyhead's t-shirt her parent's had bought her at her very first Quidditch game. Not only was it nostalgic, but it would be a perfect fit due to her stubbornly thin frame.

"Found it!" She yelled out triumphantly and emerged from the closet. Harry was on her bed, his head in his hands, shaking it slowly back and forth. "Don't be like that."

"What did you expect?" He grumbled to his hands and continued to refuse to meet her eyes.

The word tense wasn't nearly enough to explain the last couple of days. Ever since the whole Fleur debacle he had not touched her at all. She had become some kind of pariah to him. Coupled with the pressure of the impending move out, and the anxiety of being in public for the first time, Harry had become a ticking time bomb. She wasn't any better. Left over anger from his refusal to even tell her why he wasn't going back to Hogwarts was giving her mind numbing stress headaches.

"Come with me." She moved over the pile to stand in front of him, still feeling the icy distance between them.

"You know I can't." He finally looked up and gave her a frown. She felt her head pulse and pushed her fist into the scar, it gave little relief. "Your head?"

"Don't change the subject." She snapped, the headache getting to her. "You never told me why you can't, just that you can't. How am I supposed to know?"

"I'm done." He shifted to the edge of her bed.

"I'm done? That's the lamest excuse I've ever heard! I'm done." She fumed and turned away from him. It had been a long three days, full of nothing but fighting between them. She was exhausted by it. "I guess I'll just go fainting around the castle on my own then. I see how it is."

"Ginny," he warned. She could feel the explosion building between them.

"Ready?" Ron's voice entered the argument and she snapped around.

"Can I have a moment to fight here? Why are you always jumping in?" Her head pounded again and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"All you two are doing is fighting. It's giving you headaches, Gin." Ron tried to stay calm.

"That's rich coming from you. If you've got nothing to say keep your mouth shut." She shook her shirt out violently and shot a look at Harry, his jaw clenched in tension.

"I did ask a question. Ready?" Ron's voice was low and warning. Apparently everyone was fed up with her mood. To be honest she was as well, but on top of everything else the anxiety over going back to Hogwarts was making her snappy and mean. She couldn't control it.

"I need to change." She mumbled, and turned back toward her closet. She heard them both leave and stomp down the stairs. With a long breath she sat down on the pile of clothes and shoes and rubbed her head. This was going to be another long, long day.

* * *

~*~

"Alright now," her Dad was fixing Ron's button up shirt. "No need to be nervous. You are around family and friends"

"Dad we know this." Ginny sighed. They had been standing in a long, damp, and dark underground tunnel for a while now. Apparently it was the same one the teams used to get onto the field, far away from the noisy crowds and pushing fans above them. While everyone had eventually agreed that it was unfair to keep her brother, Hermione, and Harry prisoner, there had been a mixed view on the level of security needed. They now had five Aurors around them, as well as the usual security detail for the Minister himself, which was three.

"I know, but what you don't know, is that you three," he paused to straighten out Harry's shirt as well, "are getting your Order's of Merlin today."

"What?" It exploded around them and then echoed off the walls of the tunnel as everyone but Ron, Harry, and Hermione gasped. Each one went stark white, Hermione started turning slightly green.

"Arthur." Her Mum snapped, and everyone continued to stand in stunned silence.

"I know, I was told this morning when I got to work. It's their first appearance, and who knows when the next one will be. The Minister thought it was time. And what better venue is there then Quidditch? They can get the reward, and then everyone will concentrate on the game. I thought it was a good strategy." He reached out and squeezed Ron and Harry's shoulders.

"Springing it on them wasn't though. Being here is enough already." Bill voiced, Fleur nodding quickly next to him. Ginny looked around at her family. Her Mum still fuming, Bill and Fleur in amazement, Charley shaking his head, Percy with his eyebrows still raised in surprise, and George laughing to himself, at least someone was laughing.

"You'll be fine." Mr. Weasley reassured and then smiled at the three.

"Right," Ron grumbled. "We don't have to give a speech or anything?"

"No, just smile and wave." Mrs. Weasley moved over to Hermione and tried to fix her poofy hair. "I wish your parent's could have been here dear."

"Better that they aren't." Hermione swallowed hard, her face still shiny from the panic. They heard clicking down the hall and saw Kingsley Shacklebolt making his way toward them.

"Good Afternoon!" He called out down the tunnel. He was moving in and out of the lights down the tunnel, looking almost like he was apparating toward them, pool of light by pool of light. When he reached the cluster of family Ginny noticed the three velvet boxes in his hand.

"Minister." Her Mum and Dad smiled and held out their hands.

"Ah, today I'm a friend. Let's get to the seats." He smiled at everyone and continued to walk. The Aurors flanked him on either side and from behind, as they moved the remaining five enclosed their family, wands out. Ginny soon found herself bumping up against Harry, who was in the center of the circle, most likely on purpose. He was still white, and slightly on edge. Any lingering anger disappeared from her chest. She grabbed his hand,

"Just breathe."

"Sure." He let out a long breath, but the tension was still radiating off of him. He grabbed her hand tighter. She glanced up, but his eyes were fixed toward the front. The light at the end of the tunnel started to burn brighter and brighter. The noise from the stands echoing around them, making it almost deafening, she couldn't hear their footsteps any longer. Kingsley turned around for a moment, smiled at them and said,

"Ready?"

"As we'll ever be." George voiced and they moved into the blinding afternoon sun to an explosion of cheers.

At first she couldn't tell if it was just the general roar and screaming that accompany Quidditch matches. For that reason alone this was the right venue to give the medals. But as they stepped into the box, which was then levitated up to the vacant patch of stands, the mood in the arena changed. The almost forgettable screams started changing, morphing, falling into a different pattern. An almost hysterical, reverent, mournful sound hit her ears, punctuated with bits of shouting and chanting of some sort. It was all too loud to make out, but something stirred inside her chest. An unstoppable swelling of pride and gratitude filled her, and she couldn't stop the tears that were trying to form. She brought their enclosed hands up to her face to wipe them away, Harry's own hand damp with anxiety, and looked over at the three of them.

Hermione fidgeted with her hair, Ron filled his cheeks with air and blew it out, and Harry continued to look straight forward. Her family was nervous, but happy, all around them, and Kingsley was juggling the velvet boxes in his hand as the private Quidditch box finally fixed into place. A giant screen popped into life in the center of the pitch, showing the Minister's box and all who were in it.

"Hello!" He shouted. Touching his wand to his throat and nodding to the still screaming crowd. "I'd like to welcome you all to the official start of the Quidditch season." The crowd roared again. "But first, we have some very important guests with us today."

Kingsley turned around and looked at the three of them. Suddenly there was some pushing from behind as her family forced the shell shocked three to the front. Harry's hand was ironclad in her own, her arm being stretched as they tried to push him away from her. Finally with a grunt she popped past Percy and landed next to Harry.

"Harry, let go." She urgently whispered through her teeth. Kingsley was going to call each of them up to the front of the box with him. She couldn't be dragged along.

"Hermione Granger," Kingsley started and the crowd emitted a deafening roar. Hermione looked down to make sure she wouldn't trip and moved up next to Kingsley. "For your courage, unmatched intelligence, and unending loyalty I present to you the Order of Merlin, First Class for your assistance in the defeat of the Dark Lord."

Kingsley moved toward her, placed the medal around her neck, and shook her hand. Hermione gave him a beaming smile and said thank you, though it was lost in the noise coming from the crowd. She stepped back and gave Ron a large hug before he moved up next. Ginny tried to yank her hand away again. She thought she would be able to slip it out, due to the growing dampness of anxiety seeming to now make Harry glow, but his white fingers continued to hold.

"Ronald Weasley," Kingsley pulled out the medal from the velvet box. "For your bravery, quick thinking, and fierce determination I present to you the Order of Merlin, First Class for your assistance in the defeat of the Dark Lord."

Ron broke out in a huge smile, leaned forward so Kingsley could place the medal over his neck and gave him a robust handshake, saying a muted thank you over and over again. He grabbed the medal in his hand and moved back next to Hermione, giving her a quick kiss to her cheek.

"Harry, you have to let go." She pleaded, yanking her hand over and over again. "Please just accept what you deserve!" She hissed. He finally looked over at her, eyes sea green, and smiled. He let go of her hand and moved to the front, the entire stadium falling into an eerie silence.

"Harry Potter," Kingsley started and stopped, looking at the medal in his hands. "For your sacrifice, for your unparalleled tenacity, for your uncompromisable sense of justice and what is right," Kingsley looked up at him, the crowd still hushed into silence. "For the past seven years…please accept this Order of Merlin, First Class for your triumph over Lord Voldemort on behalf of the Wizarding community."

"Thank you," his voice boomed over the speakers, and he leaned forward to let Kingsley place the medal over his head. After a firm hand shake the stadium vibrated with what felt like white noise. The stadium exploded with light, both from the fireworks that went off above their heads and the thousands of camera's that were going off. Harry gave a little wave to the crowd; his body still projected on the giant screen, and then fell back into the folds of her family, obstructed from view.

His hands found her shoulders in a sea of shakes, pats, grabs, and hugs. He didn't let go, even though it felt like fifty people kept congratulating him. When the shaking finally stopped his arms wrapped around her, pulling her right up against his chest. Everyone was bustling and chatting before the game would start around them. But it was as if they were sharing their own private moment. The first time he had touched her since the Shell Cottage incident, the cold of his medal pressing into her back, and the hyper awareness about the situation mixed together in her brain and she suddenly knew why he had been so nervous. Everything had changed.

She could hear them now, the constant flashes going off around them, as people edged their way closer and closer to the Minister's box for a good picture. Even her family had seemed to regard them differently as their completely innocent public display of affection was out for the entire world to see. With a click of her mother's tongue everyone started to sit down. They had been purposely sat in the middle of the box, flanked by family and guards on any side.

"Hey, Ginny! Ginny! Harry!" Someone was calling over the noise of the crowd; they turned, still wrapped within each other and flinched at the clicks of the camera.

"Must be reporters." He mumbled in her ear.

"Ginny! Harry!" The voice called again and she squinted into the crowd. Someone was jumping up and down in the back of the photographer crowd trying to be seen. "Over here!"

She recognized the voice at once and broke a hand free from Harry's hold to wave back.

"It's Neville!"

"About bloody time." Ron said next to her; as they watched the group of Neville, Luna, Katie, and who Ginny knew to be Mary weave through the crowd toward them. "Oi! What took you lot so long?" He shouted into the crowd.

"Like they can hear you." Ginny groaned and moved toward the crowding bouncers to let their friends in, Harry close on her heels. With a few jumbled minutes of double-checking, and flashing blubs the group made it in and settled down into the seats.

"Thank you again for inviting me, Harry. This is going to be a wonderful match." Luna gave him a dreamy smile and then started looking around them all.

"Yeah, thanks for inviting us. I was thinking we'd all be up in the nosebleeds." Neville gave him a slap on the back. "Oh and congrats! We saw it on the giant screen."

"Thanks." Harry shrugged and found her hand again. With Harry to her left, Neville to her right, Katie and Mary behind her, and Luna and Hermione in front of her, Ginny soon found herself surrounded by all her friends. The swelling of joy almost made the sound of the still clicking cameras disappear into the back of her mind, almost.

"Security was a nightmare. Can you believe we got here at noon? It's taken us three hours to get through all these people, and the security checks, and then up to this booth. All in good measure of course, but still." Katie was miffed, but smiling as she looked out onto the still empty field. Mary, still shell shocked, was sitting still with her hands folded in her lap, an almost hilarious frozen smile on her face.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Mary?" Ginny couldn't help but ask. Her big blue eyes slowly shifted over to her, almost as if waking from a dream, and she gave her a slow nod. Everyone started to laugh.

"If I can have your attention please." Kingsley's voice boomed over the speakers again. The buzz of the crowd started to din. "By the powers vested in me by the Ministry of Magic, I now declare this the official start of the Quidditch season."

The crowd roared. The lights dimmed. The jumbo screen came down again. It boomed a horrible screeching noise over the audience and Ginny's head exploded with pain. She wrapped her hands around her ears, and ducked down into her lap. All around her she could hear her friends and family complaining, but no one had quite reacted the same way she did. Harry's soothing hand was rubbing up and down her back soon enough, as the crowd slowly stopped complaining. She felt him lean down next to her,

"You okay?"

"Stupid concussion." She gritted through her teeth.

"Need anything?" He continued to rub.

"I'll be fine." She lied. But what could she do? It would be impossible to leave the stadium now, and she wanted to stay. She took a deep breath and sat up, her head spinning for a moment, but then leveling out, leaving her with just a mild throbbing. Ron and Hermione were both looking at her with concern, but having their Order's of Merlin hanging around their necks looked so out of place that she laughed.

"What?" Ron knitted his eyebrows together, confused.

"Nothing." She smiled and looked out at the field, light with spectacular glory.

* * *

~*~

Mr. Tibbles was curled up neatly in her lap as she glanced forlornly at the Hogwarts paperwork again. Due to the extenuating circumstances of the war this year was going to have a combined 7th, and technically 8th grade year. Ginny had been expecting it, she welcomed it actually, she would be in classes with Hermione and Neville, but there was a large part of her that was very nervous. The students that had decided to return would be far more advanced then she was, especially in her own house. Having Harry there would have been ideal, even Ron would have been a welcomed addition, so her disappointment was turning into anxious nervousness.

She scratched Mr. Tibbles behind his ears and looked down at all the books she would have to buy. It was going to be a long year. Basic coverage of 6th year material was a mandatory extra class that she would have to take, as well as the regular set of courses for her 7th year. Put on top of that having to try out for Quidditch, as well as all the practices and she would never have time to sleep. Her stomach turned again and she turned the paperwork over.

"Hey," Harry leaned into her room, holding onto the doorjamb. Mr. Tibbles jumped from her lap and went to circle around his legs. "I'm going to go visit Teddy. Want to come?"

They had been on thin ice since the Quidditch game. He still didn't want her to leave, and she still wanted him to come, something they just couldn't compromise on. And due to the sobbing mess her Mum dissolved into whenever Harry started banging his trunk down the stairs, he still hadn't left yet. It was putting everyone on edge, which was in turn making things all the more difficult between them.

"Sure." She nodded and slipped on her sneakers to follow him downstairs.

A quick floo trip over and they arrived dusty and coughing in Mrs. Tonks living room.

"Harry, dear, so good of you to come!" She looked up from her newspaper and then gave Ginny a warm smile. "You must be Ginny Weasley. I've hear so much about you."

"Nice to meet you." She dusted off her hand and moved across the living room to shake the elderly woman's hand. She quickly shooed it away and stood up to give her a hug. Ginny felt herself stiffen with the informal nature of it, but went along.

"My daughter and her husband used to speak so fondly of your family. And Harry talks about you often, I feel like I already know you."

"Oh," she glanced over her shoulder at Harry who was avoiding eye contact. "I'll have to come around more often so I can get to know you better."

"Well, come along," she smiled and gestured toward the back of the house. "Teddy should be waking up from his nap any moment now."

Ginny fell behind to give Harry a sideway glare, he shrugged his shoulders and tried to look apologetic, but she could tell he was laughing. With a roll of her eyes they moved into a back room. Mrs. Tonks opened the door to a small bedroom, full of afternoon sun. The walls were painted with magical paint making clouds that were constantly moving and shaping into new formations across the walls. The room was full of brightly colored toys, a rocking chair, a changing table, and a crib. As they entered the room her eyes fell on the sleeping baby and she grabbed his arm,

"He looks like Professor Lupin!" She whispered squeezing his arm with excitement. Harry laughed next to her and Teddy opened his eyes. With a little yawn he sat up and clapped at seeing everyone around his crib.

"Look who's here Teddy!" Mrs. Tonks leaned down and grabbed him out of the crib. She gave him a tight hug and then immediately passed him off to Harry. "I'll go make his lunch."

"Teddy, this is Ginny." Harry held the baby against his side, and to her astonished eyes Teddy's hair went from brown to Weasley red within a blink. "He likes you."

She was speechless. One to have a baby change hair color at will was disarming, but it also reminded her of Tonks. Secondly, he bore such a striking resemblance to Lupin it was unnerving. And lastly, Harry was holding the baby like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"You want to hold him?" He shifted Teddy to his chest, holding the squirming baby with both his arms.

"I don't think so. I've never held a baby before." She took a step back. "I don't want to drop him."

"You'll be fine." He nodded and held Teddy out in front of himself. Teddy let out a gurgling scream of joy and kicked his chubby legs and arms around, reaching out toward her. His hair morphing from brown to red to black. She gave Harry one more leery look and then grabbed him around the middle and held him close to her.

"Ah," the baby started laughing and slipping down.

"It's easier if you do this." Harry moved over and placed one arm under Teddy's diapered bottom and the other across his squirming back. He stepped back and her eyes zeroed in on only the baby. The room disappeared as she looked down and whispered,

"Hi, Teddy."

He gurgled again and slapped a warm palm against her chest. His hair morphed to jet black and she smiled down at him.

"You look so much like your Mum and Dad. They were great people Teddy, and Harry's not too bad either." She looked up and he was smiling ear to ear. Teddy pressed a chubby hand against her cheek and she looked back down at him, his hair red. She tried to shift him toward her hip, but he was squirming around too much, so she just squeezed him tighter to her chest.

"You want me to take him?" Harry came over and plucked him away whisking him over to the big box of toys. Harry shook one of the toys and Teddy clapped and laughed with joy. He lunged toward it and put his slobbery mouth onto the bright orange wheel. Harry let out a chuckle and settled down onto the floor next to the baby.

"How often are you here?" She sat down opposite Harry and the baby. Teddy smiled at her and then went back to work on the wheel.

"I come once or twice a week. I'd like to come more." Harry grabbed the block out of Teddy's hand before he could chuck it. He set it back down and shook another toy for his slobbery enjoyment.

"Hopefully you will when I leave." She leaned against the wall and Harry looked down at the floor.

He swished his wand and set the toys levitating right out of Teddy's reach. The baby tried to lunge at them, grabbing a block and putting it directly in his mouth. "No, I'll be here less."

She felt as if someone splashed cold water all over her. If he wasn't going to Hogwarts with her there was only one other thing he would be doing. "Why?"

"We can talk about it later." He mumbled, still refusing to meet her eyes.

"No, let's talk about it now. If you aren't coming with me then…" She dropped off and locked her eyes onto him. When he finally looked up she knew the answer before it even made it past his lips.

"Ginny I," he started.

"You're going to get yourself killed! Do you know that? Have you realized that? What was all this worth if you're just going to throw it away?" She yelled. Teddy stopped chewing on his toy and looked at her wide eyed, his hair switching to brown.

"Calm down." Harry hissed at her but it was too late, Teddy let out a wail and big, fat tears started running down his cheeks. Harry scooped him up, toys falling to the floor, and started walking around the room with him, the tears continuing to fall.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset him." She whispered.

"You, of all people, have known this is what I wanted to do. I had a meeting with Kingsley yesterday. I start training next week." His tone was soothing to calm the baby, but the words cut through her.

"Next week?" It fell out of her mouth sounding horribly desperate. He looked over at her for a moment, but then started walking around the room again. "But that's my last week."

"That's when training starts." He bounced Teddy around, his tears now dried, but a soft hiccupping sound came from his chest every few minutes.

"What does that mean, for us, what does that mean?" Her voice was growing faint, and she struggled to compose herself.

"Nothing. It's…are you going to pass out?" His anxiety transformed the calm atmosphere in the room and Teddy started crying again. "Ginny, breath!"

"I'm breathing." She hissed and put her head between her legs. Mrs. Tonks entered the room, a bottle in hand and looked at the three of them for a second.

"Everything okay?"

"Fine, she'll be fine." Harry sighed and grabbed the bottle out of her hand. Teddy moved his head around trying to get at it and then stopped crying once he had it in his mouth. "Will you take him?"

"Of course, maybe she needs some fresh air." They exchanged the baby and she felt his hand wrap around her arm and lift her up from the floor.

"I'm sorry," she apologized as Harry whisked her out of the room. Mrs. Tonks gave her a sad smile and then looked back down at Teddy. Harry weaved her around the house until they were in the back yard. She sat down on a chair and looked out at the trees.

"Better?" He slumped down in the chair next to her.

"I'm fine." She sighed. "So this is it, hu?"

"What do you mean?" He looked over at her, but she just kept looking out at the trees.

"I didn't really think it would end this way."

"Nothing is ending."

She finally looked over and their eyes locked for a moment. Depression overtook the anxiety that was still coursing through her and she took a shaky breath.

"I don't know what I expected really. Maybe I thought I could convince you to come back to Hogwarts with me. But if you're leaving next week and I'm leaving after that then what's the point? You won't be able to talk to me for at least a year, I'll be too busy at school to see you all year. Maybe it's better this way." She felt her surroundings start to blur.

"Ginny, I'm not breaking up with you." He put a warm hand on her leg, but she was still running through her thoughts.

"It's not like we had anything official to begin with. I mean we never even talked about what you said the day George showed up all drunk. Maybe you just don't feel that way anymore. I wouldn't blame you. We've been fighting so much. Maybe it's better this way." She closed her eyes and felt the garden spin around her. "What did we have anyway, other then a series of increasingly mortifying experiences."

"Listen to me," he stood up from the chair and she opened her eyes. Harry crouched down in front of her, steadying himself by holding onto her legs. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to let you do this, Ginny. Stop trying to rationalize something that hasn't even happened."

"But," she started but he squeezed her legs and cut over her.

"Just because you are going to Hogwarts doesn't mean that I won't see you for a year. And I'm just going away for a couple of months to train. I should be out before Christmas break. It's going to go by so quickly you won't even realize I'm gone."

"Harry," she sighed and leaned back in the chair.

"Ginny," he smiled at her. "I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me to leave. I will make this work."

"But why?" She bit her lip and shook her head slightly. He opened his mouth to say something and then clamped it shut. He pulled her up from the chair and with a swish they landed on something squishy and damp.

"Ugh, I hate side along apparition." She held onto her queasy stomach and felt her hand land on bark. She looked up and all around her was a thick forest. "Where are we?"

"Forest of Dean." Harry let out with a sigh.

She stood up straight and marveled at the silence of it. Only a few steaks of light were breaking through, the ground still damp with moss, with an ancient woodsy kind of smell all around her.

"Why are we in the Forest of Dean?" Her voice sounded loud in their unaccompanied clearing. A bird let out a shriek and startled her. She looked over at Harry who was still searching around the trees, a frown on his face. His eyes fell on her and a small smirk crossed his mouth,

"This is where I was last year."

She felt the confused look on her face fall down into comprehension before it all sunk in. The enormity of what the next words out of his mouth might be caused her limbs to freeze. Any kind of response choked in her throat and she nodded for him to continue.

"I think it's time to tell you, Ginny."

"What, exactly?" She tried to make her voice not quiver, but she felt like she was shaking.

"Everything." He took a squishy step toward her.

"Everything?"

"Where should I start?" His voice echoed up into the canopy of green above them.

"The beginning?" She offered. He smiled down at her, now so close she could feel his breath on her face.

"The very beginning, or just the beginning?"

"Um," she laughed and then swallowed hard. She could feel his eyes on her, trying to gauge the answer before she could say it. She wanted to know everything, every single detail, every second that had some connection to who he was, and how he was shaped into the man before her. She craved it, needing to feel that kind of closeness. But everyone, including her family, had learned that less was more with Harry.

Did she really need to know that he was abused by his relatives? That he was tormented with nightmares and flashbacks? That anytime he trusted or loved someone they betrayed him or died? She didn't want to know those things; they ripped her heart apart with compassion for him. But if she didn't know it all, if she didn't bleed and cry for him, would she ever really know him? Like Ron and Hermione did? Like she had wanted all along?

"The very beginning." She looked him dead in the eyes before she could change her mind. He grabbed her arm and they were off again.

* * *

~*~

Author's Note:

This was a long one, but I thank again my editor's for all the help and tireless patients you've had with me. And Courtney, your 'inspirational pictures' were a tremendous help as well!


	12. Chapter 12

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 12~

_I can't change my mind_

_Oh, I knew all the time that she'd go_

_But that's a choice I made long ago._

_Mandolin Rain by Bruce Hornsby_

* * *

~*~

It was one in the morning by the time they landed on the dirt road near her house. Harry's warm hand was still wrapped around her arm as their graveled steps echoed toward the Burrow. The lateness of the night made the air damp with humidity, with insects buzzing around them, and a full moon lighting the path. Still, no words had been said. Not a single phrase could formulate in her brain, she was literally stunned. She could sense that Harry was anxious for her to say something; she had stopped making even single word responses after Godric's Hallow. Her brain swam with information, pain, sorrow, respect, love, and fear. Yes, a tiny part of her feared him and what she now knew he was capable of.

"Are you okay?" He finally voiced as they stopped near her front door. He dropped his hand and moved to stand in front of her. She pushed through all the information starting to solidify into memory and managed,

"Yes."

"You're really quiet." He fidgeted with his hands.

"I know." She nodded.

They fell back into silence, just looking at each other, when Ron's voice broke through.

"I'm tired, 'Mione. Let's just get you home."

"Are you absolutely sure nothing was said to you Ronald?" Her Mother's anxious tone was next. They were both moving close to the front door.

"For the last time, no. They both took off. They're probably on a d…date." He choked on the word, Hermione laughed. "Honestly Mum, are you worried about her? I can't think of a safer person for her to take off with."

"Harry would never let anything happen to Ginny. Really, Mrs. Weasley, I'm sure they just lost track of time."

The doorknob turned, and Harry glanced over his shoulder to see the three of them enter out into the courtyard.

"Merlin! There you two are!" Her Mum shouted and pushed past Ron and Hermione, her hands already on her hips. "Not a note? Not an owl? You can't be taking off like that and not letting anyone know. Imagine how I felt coming home to an empty house? The panic over empty rooms, it's not that far off from the war you two. You have to remember your safety first and foremost."

"Yes, ma'am." They both mumbled and she saw the eyebrow rise on her mother's face. This was going nowhere good. Ron and Hermione, sensing the turn, quickly popped away.

"Where did you two go anyway?" She zeroed her eyes onto Ginny.

"Date." She supplied far too quickly. Her Mum's eyebrows scrunched in a moment of suspicion but then a happy smile spread across her face.

"Well, it's late. You should come in sooner rather then later." Mrs. Weasley smiled again and made a bee line for the door. As it softly clicked shut she turned her attention back to Harry.

"It was too much, wasn't it?"

"No. Never." She took a breath, finally seeming to snap out of the awe coma her brain had slipped into.

"But you haven't said…" She cut over him.

"Thank you."

"For what?" He crossed his arms, exhaling a long breath of exhaustion.

"For trusting me. For letting me know. For everything you did."

"That's not…I didn't do this for some kind of…I wanted you to understand…"

She put a hand on his crossed arms to stop his stuttering.

"I know."

He dropped his arms and ran a hand across his forehead.

"It's just, I'm not very…articulate, Ginny. The only way I could explain it to you was to show you. To show you how I feel…about you."

She smiled at him, knowing exactly how it felt to never be able to make the words. She had made a career out of looking like a jackass in front of Harry before he had noticed her. His slight uncomfortable awkwardness made a kindred part of her heart beat for him.

"Harry," she moved toward him. "Trust me, I know."

"Do you?" The dark green blazed into her, setting the slight control she had over her emotions on fire. She felt a blush form across her cheeks, and parted her lips to take in a deep breath. She nodded and his mouth crashed into hers. A startled noise escaped her throat but she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Arms wrapped around her waist, and she was on the tip-toes of her sneakers to reach him, his fists full of her jacket and shirt clenched like tight balls on her back. She sucked in a short breath feeling her chest stretch across his own, some knot of anxiety melted toward her stomach. Her body flushed as his hands let go and moved up toward her face, one running along the back of her neck, tangling up in her hair, the other moving across her cheek. The pulsing began in her stomach again, and she felt the air charge around them.

Harry pulled back a tiny bit and then let go, frowning as he took a step away from her. They were still incredibly close, but the loss of physical contact made the dangerous lust that was always between them dim slightly. She bit her lip to hide her own frown. Even with this incredible, mostly wordless, declaration from him they still couldn't be together for too long before things would heat up out of control. She looked up at him, the moonlight making his hair match the sky, inky black. She would have liked to have heard the words, it was only three words, but he had done everything but say them.

There was no doubt in her mind that Harry loved her, was in love with her, loved everything about her, loved only her. But as today had shown her, he didn't toss that word around much. Mostly because there wasn't a whole lot of love in his life. And whenever he did associate or say anything about love it was taken from him. So he wouldn't say it, no matter how badly he might want to, because of what might happen if he did. But she also sensed a degree of hesitation; he wasn't sure. That was the part that broke her heart. He loved her, but he wasn't so sure she loved him back. Not in the life altering way he did, at least.

The scary part was she wasn't so sure herself. It was unnerving for her to realize they both knew each other too well, and yet not at all. How could she love Harry without even knowing simple things about him? Like what food he didn't like, or what his favorite color was, or if he'd prefer a holiday at the beach or the city. How could you know someone, pick them out from a crowded room, and yet still not know them at all? What if the person she started to learn about drove her crazy? What if he ground his teeth, or hogged the covers, or messed the bathroom? Why was she already thinking of things like they were about to live with each other?

Her mind swam with emotion and thought. But then one came through all the fog that she had wanted the answer to since the beginning of the summer. Flashes of her exploding door came to mind. She stepped forward to hug him again.

"So you actually did die?"

"Yes." He mumbled into her hair.

"But the part that did was Voldemort." She pressed herself closer to him.

"Yes." He exhaled.

"So you were moody because you were a Horcrux, not because of hormones."

She felt him pause, his chin resting on the top of her head. She hid the smile that was trying to form by biting her lip.

"Who said I was moody?" It rumbled in his chest, tainted with indignation.

"You know, people talk." She tried to brush it off, still fighting a laugh. She pulled back, his hands still tight around her waist. She leaned so far back it was almost like he was dipping her. "Mostly Ron…"

"Hrump," he growled. The laugh escaped and she brought herself back to upright. "Your Mum is watching us."

"I know I can feel her eyes."

She glanced over her shoulder and the curtains on the kitchen snapped shut quickly.

"We should go inside."

"If you say so." She grabbed his hand and they took the few last steps. Her Mum was putting out the candles and lights on the bottom floor, leaving only the dining room one on.

"Goodnight Mrs. Weasley." Harry was the first to break the awkwardly expectant air around them. Her Mum rewarded him with a huge smile,

"Goodnight, dear." She turned to Ginny. "Goodnight, love."

"See you tomorrow, Mum." She smiled and watched her Mother, and her silly grin, take the stairs. "I think she might be happy about us being late."

"Where would you get that kind of idea?" He asked her shoulder, and started to kiss a slow line up toward her neck, and brought their still entwined hands around her waist to pull her closer.

"Ugh!" Ron appeared in front of them with an annoying pop. He instantly covered his eyes and started swatting at the air in an attempt to stop them. She smacked his hand away. "Is it safe to look now?"

"Git." She swore, with Harry still wrapped up against her. Ron looked between his fingers and then dropped his hand.

"There better not be too much of that going on at the apartment." He wagged a very motherly finger at them.

"And you better have Hermione put up _extensive_ silencing charms on your bedroom in the apartment." She snapped back, she could already feel Harry's silent laughter before Ron reached tomato red.

"What do you know about that?"

"Too much." She pretended to gag.

"I don't know if I like the two of you being friends."

"Well prepare yourself; we're only going to get closer." She leaned into Harry and smirked. He threw his hands up, admitting defeat for the moment and then locked eyes on Harry.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah." He nodded.

"And you won't be swayed by the tears this time?" Ron sternly asked.

"I won't." He reassured.

"Because we need to set up the house before you take off for Auror school. That's only in four days. You realize that, right?"

"I know." Harry said slowly. She dropped her eyes to the floor.

"And you realize that everyone is going to want one night out of those four to give you a proper send off." Ron continued.

"I know." He continued in a slow, controlled voice.

"And we're going to need at least one day for Hermione to set up all the wards and charms and stuff." Ron started keeping track on his fingers. "I'm sure my Mum will have some as well."

"I know." His voice started to take an edge. She moved out of his grasp.

"Did you make the keys? I think it's ridiculous that you want to have Muggle locks installed on an Unplottable and impenetrable house. But getting the keys made means having a Wizard Locksmith come out from Muggle London to fit the keys and make them. That's probably another day." Ron ticked off another finger. Only one day. There was only one day for them.

"Can't we talk about this tomorrow?"

"No, Harry. In case you weren't paying attention we have FOUR days!" Ron looked exasperated. His hair was a mess all over his head, like licking fire around an oven.

"And it will all get done." Harry said in a low warning voice. "But if you don't mind." And then he nodded his head, hard, once toward her, and Ginny felt herself smile despite the wretched feeling in her chest.

"Gross. But fine. I'll be upstairs packing." He took the steps two at a time and was gone in an instant.

"So what should we do with our one day?" She had hoped it came out funny, but his eyes told her it hadn't. The happy emerald had gone back to a smoky hunter.

"I was hoping you could help me set up the apartment as well. I don't have that much to move, but there are a lot of charms that I want to set into place. I could use your help."

"Of course." She nodded and looked at the floor. Flashes of a large frothing cave, and a dilapidated house flashed in front of her eyes and she shut them for a second. It didn't seem fair. He broke up with her to keep her safe, and now he was leaving her to keep the Wizarding world at large safe. Would he ever stay? She already knew the answer. It was what made everything work between them. She didn't need him to. She always wanted him to, but in the end she was strong enough without him. At least now she was.

"Did you," he started and then cleared his throat. Her heart warmed up, he was nervous. "Have any more questions?"

"Does Neville know?"

"Does he know what?" He countered. Always specifying before he would answer. She leaned against the table.

"Does he know that he was one decision away from being in your shoes?"

"No. I don't think so."

They fell silent. She didn't want to think about it. It was impossible to separate Harry from his destiny. It shaped him, quite literally at times, into who he was. And not having that had made Neville who he was as well. The decomposing Riddle mansion, and ashy mess of what his parent's house used to be flashed this time. In quick succession with the clearing in the Forbidden Forrest, the Riddle graveyard, and her minds own stark memory of the dripping chamber. He had been marked for death since birth, dodging it almost every year of his life. The frustration of where he was going after the four days filled her again. She clenched her hands around the table top.

"What? Please say something, you're killing me Ginny."

That was the worst thing to say. Her anger boiled over.

"Why, Harry? I know that you would be a wonderful Auror. One of the best they've ever seen, I know that. But have you ever stopped and asked if it was what you wanted or what you felt like you needed to do? You've come so close, so many times. Many, _many_ more times then I knew until this night. And you're still going to go?"

"Yes. Because I want to. It's what I'm good at."

"It's what you were forced to be good at. Quidditch, that's something you just happen to be good at. I'm…" She stuttered, starting to loose her composure due to the late hour and the mind blowing day. "I don't want this to sound bad, Harry. You are good at Defense, too good. But I can't imagine why you'd want to keep dodging this threat for the rest of your life."

"It's what I know how to do. I haven't gotten it all figured out yet, but at least right now, this is what I want." He crossed his arms and took a tired breath himself.

"But at what cost?" She pushed off from the table. "You are still a walking target. You need to be protected, not out there for them to come after you!"

"I will not…" he dropped his arms, a flush of anger turning his cheeks red. "Will not hide. I would rather be out there and take that risk then rot away."

"You're not a bloody cat!" She screamed at him. "You don't get nine lives! You're already two over your limit! How many more times are you going to be marked for death, eh?" Fury pulsed through her and without restraining it she popped up to her toes and jabbed her finger into his scar.

She landed against the table with a thump and looked at her hand like it had betrayed her, her mouth dropping open. There was a long moment of silence and then Harry started laughing. She still had her finger out in front of her, but looked up.

"That's why I know it's you Ginny. Who else would say something like that to me?" He kept laughing, putting his hand on his side. "Who else would jab me in my scar?"

"Malfoy, but it would be in a malicious way." She meekly answered.

"You treat me normal. That's all I ever wanted. Did you know I told your parents, and even Hermione about Auror school and no one put up a fight. Only you." He smiled and grabbed the finger, still in the air, and used it to pull her close again.

"I still don't think you should go." She refused to give up.

"I still don't think you should either." He countered.

"So what do we do?" She asked his chest, still feeling mortified that she had actually jabbed him on his scar.

"Keep moving forward. That's all you can do, when you come to an impasse like this." He gave her a hug and then wrapped his arms lightly around her. She didn't want it to end. Four days. She'd only have four days, and then it would be four months before she could feel this again. The selfish part of her brain still wanted him to be there, wanted to see him tugging at his tie, and copying off Hermione's homework. But after everything she'd seen, and everything he'd told her tonight he just didn't fit there anymore. It would be out of place, it would be like treading water for him. He was right. He was done. Everything just needed to keep moving forward, and for the moment that meant keeping them apart.

"I should go to bed." She pulled back and gave him a sly smile. "Want to join me?" There was no hurt in a little flirting, right? If they only had four days she might have to lay it on thick to at least get some kind of physical attention out of him.

"I don't know." He smiled down at her.

"Choice is up to you." She let go of him and started up the stairs. He was quick after. It was almost reassuring in a way. After all that she had learned today, in the end, he was still a boy.

She paused at the doorjamb and turned, feeling her heart pump loudly in her ears, and her body tingle with anticipation.

"We better not." It came out low and deep, her stomach fluttered. "Goodnight, Ginny."

"Goodnight." She grumbled back, he chuckled and then took off up the stairs. She fell into her room, and then gently closed the door. Her bed called to her, her mind wanting to fall into oblivion so it could process and compartmentalize this new Harry, this whole vision of him. She fell into blackness.

* * *

_"Bollocks Neville! Are you insane?" She yelled at him and slammed her hand down hard on the desk. Luna and Neville cringed at her reaction. "This is far too large for our small operation here."_

_"It has to be done." He countered._

_"Why, exactly?" She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes._

_"I can just feel it. We need to get that sword. It can't be trusted with Snape." He crossed his own and squared off at her. He was getting much better at standing up to her over the past few weeks. Something was changing inside him; she couldn't quite put her finger on it._

_"Everyone knows you can't trust Snape. But he hasn't done anything with the sword! Why do you suddenly think we need to steal it?"_

_"You would have said yes if Harry had suggested it." He took the low blow right to her. She scowled, and moved quickly across the room, throwing a chair out of the way. Luna let out a startled yelp. Her voice was very low and dangerous,_

_"Because Harry always knows what he's doing. You're not Harry. We don't have an Invisibility Cloak, or Hermione."_

_"He made it up as he went along. I've seen him do it time and again." Neville countered, his face turning red with rage._

_"You just said it to make me mad. It's not going to work Neville. It's a stupid idea, and we're not going to do it." She tossed her red-black hair over her shoulder and glared, her jaw set, and rage radiating off her in waves._

_"I'll do it without you." He countered and moved away from the table._

_"Oh no you won't!" She grabbed his arm to stop him. "I'm not going to let you."_

_"Please! Please just stop!" Luna finally yelled out. They both looked up at her, still red with rage and stiff with anger._

_"Ginny is right, we can't do it without her. But Neville is right as well. The sword of Gryffindor has defeated dark things in the past. In particular a basilisk if you remember Ginny." She let go of Neville's arm. "I agree with Neville. It's too powerful an object to be left with Snape. We have to retrieve it, we have to keep it, just in case Harry comes back and he needs it."_

_"Harry's not coming back." She said in a low voice. Neville seemed to deflate at the words next to her. But Luna's eyes were bright,_

_"He'll have to. He needs that sword, Ginny. Let's get it, so he'll have one less thing to do."_

_The Room of Requirements was silent for a long time, just dripping water, flickering flame, and the steady thumping of her heart. Even when she'd told Neville no the first time; in the back of her mind she knew that they would have done it. That in turn meant the Underground needed to do it. Her heart ached at the mention of Harry, and the memory of Ron and Hermione. But in her chest she felt it flare, the bravery that seemed to come from a bottomless well these days. They'd all become gutsy, bold, and brave. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and then opened them back up,_

_"So what's your plan?"_

* * *

~*~

Someone threw open her windows and bright, white light burst into her room. She threw a pillow over her face and groaned.

"Rise and shine, its moving day!" Ron called out to her. He ripped the pillow off her face.

"Bugger off, you." She growled.

"Did you think you were going to get out of this? We have furniture to build, a kitchen to stock, sheets to wash, floors to mop. And we only have…" He ticked off on his hands but she cut over him in a very bitter voice,

"Four days. I know. Stop reminding me."

"We're leaving in 30, better change and eat fast." He left the door open as he thumped back up the stairs. Before she could even sit up Hermione was next in her room. She was wearing a tattered pair of jeans and a simple white t-shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a very large ponytail; she smiled and pulled out the chair from her desk.

"So how was the date?"

"It wasn't a date." She yawned and sat up to stretch.

"Then what was it? We saw your hand on the clock, you were constantly traveling. I thought it was…" Hermione trailed off, seeming to slowly start to comprehend what last night had entailed. Ginny didn't have the time or the patients this early in the morning to wait.

"Well, we started in the Forrest of Dean, if that gives you any clue." She stood up and started walking over to her closet. Hermione shot up out of her chair and grabbed her around the arms,

"Ginny. Ginny, this is huge."

"I know."

"He hasn't even told Ron and I some of that stuff."

"I know." She couldn't help the smug smile that pulled across her face.

"Wow," she dropped her arms and sat back down in the chair. "I didn't think he'd listen to me. He's always so stubborn."

"What did you say?" She asked over her shoulder pulling out an ancient looking Cannon's t-shirt. It was still flecked with paint that wouldn't come off from some previous hard labor sort of day.

"Well…you know…" Hermione trailed off, but Ginny fixed her eyes on her and she blushed slightly before continuing. "I just told him that girls like you, they don't wait around. You're strong, and beautiful, and powerful, and you're not going to wait forever for him to tell you his feelings. I told him that if he was leaving, and you were going back to Hogwarts, he needed to say something, or someone else would."

"That's a low blow, Hermione." Ginny grabbed some jeans.

"It's the truth. I have no doubt that Dean would get one look at you on the first day back and try." Hermione crossed her arms, as if to signal that she knew Ginny couldn't disagree. But it was someone else that she knew must have crossed Harry's mind.

"Not Dean." It fell out of her mouth.

"Then who?" Hermione looked scandalized. Apparently she hadn't thought the threat was really real. With a flick of her wand the door shut. Ginny debated in her head if she should even say anything. She rang her shirt through her hands, and said in a low whisper,

"Neville. He's jealous of Neville."

"Oh," Hermione nodded slowly. "I see it now."

"What do you mean, now?" She hissed.

"Forgive me for being more focused on the fact that you were gravely ill, and under hospital supervision. At the time I thought he was just being a good friend." Hermione hissed back.

"But he is a good friend. Other then you he's my best friend." Ginny turned around so she could switch out of her wrinkled clothes from yesterday in semi-privacy.

"So, did Harry say it?"

"Say what?" Ginny prodded, already having an inkling what she was hinting at.

"Ginny." Hermione gave her a withering look. "It's written all over his face."

"No. He didn't. I don't think he will." She finished dressing and pulled her hair back as well. Saying that out loud made her mood darken. Why did she want to hear the words so bad? It seemed as if everyone already knew, shouldn't that be enough?

"Ah, well, he wouldn't, would he? Considering." Hermione shrugged and stood up to give her a hug. "He will eventually."

"I know. I'm not going to force it out of him." She grumbled against the hug, but gave her a light one back.

"He told you everything?" Hermione pulled back, still in awe of it.

"He showed me everything." She amended.

"The Riddle graveyard? The Gaunt house? The cave?"

"Yes." She quietly answered. Hermione's mouth hung open, her eyes slightly bulging. "Please don't say anything today. These next few days are going to be hard enough."

"Of course not." She smiled and started moving toward the door. It banged open before she could reach it and Ron shoved his head in.

"Ten minutes! Ginny, Harry wants you upstairs." He ordered and then smiled at Hermione. She slipped her shoes back on. They were filthy, covered in evaporated salt water and caked and dried on mud from all over the Wizarding world. Pushing past the two of them she took the stairs and swung open the door.

It was shocking. She was frozen by it at first. Ron's room was bare. All the posters and pictures, piles of clothes and books, his Hogwarts trunk and Pig's cage were gone. Even the bed had been shrunk down and packed away. All that remained was a very frazzled Harry who was waving his wand over and over again at his over stuffed trunk. He still had on the same clothes as yesterday, his hair a crazy mess, and all the wrinkles in his shirt somehow made him more endearing. Like a mad potions master that didn't have time to worry about his appearance.

"Erecto!" He pointed at the trunk again, but nothing seemed to happen.

"You don't have to straighten it out before you reduce it, you know." She gently said and he turned around and smiled.

"Do you mind? I'm knackered." He stepped away and she drew out her wand and with a simple flick commanded,

"Reducto." And the trunk shrank to the size of a hard candy on the floor.

"Amazing." Harry said before he reached down and threw the trunk into his pocket. "Ready?"

"You're not going to make me paint, are you?" She gave him a wicked smile thinking for a brief flash what had happened the last time.

"No, but I do have a bed frame that has your name all over it." He smiled back and quickly closed the space between them. A hand snaked out to pull her waist closer, and just as he was about to land a kiss Ron bellowed up the stairs,

"Five minutes you two!"

"Think he's a little excited?" Harry murmured against her lips.

"He's like a two year old." She whispered back. He gave her a quick kiss and then started pulling her toward the door. She paused at the door and looked back in. Only dust bunnies and a dirty window remained. The hardwood floors had a soft glow about them, and the slanted ceiling made the room look incredibly small. How had Harry and her brother lived there for so long?

"Let's go." He grabbed her hand, and with a final tug she closed the door. It took everything she had to not let the bittersweet sigh escape.

The living room held Ron, Hermione, and her Mother, all looking rested and ready to attack the day.

"We're debating on Floo or Appariting. It's an awful lot of charmed objects that we're holding onto." Hermione explained.

"Apparate. I'm not sure the Floo is up and running just yet." Harry quickly said and they all nodded. One by one they disappeared until it was their turn. Harry turned to her and dug something out of his pocket.

"I almost forgot. Here's the password." He held out the scrap of paper, and then grabbed back onto her arm. She unrolled the scroll as he took out his wand and glanced at the small word across the page: Jello.

"Are you kid…" She started, but wasn't able to finish. With a grin they started whirling through space.

* * *

~*~

"Harry!" She yelled out into the apartment. After a few thumps he appeared in the doorway to his room, his shirt sticking to his body from sweat, messy black locks falling across his face.

"What's up?"

"I think the store shorted you on these wood peg things." She held up the empty bag and gestured around the almost finished bed frame surrounding her.

"Dowels. They're called wood dowels. There has to be more." He moved into the room and started lifting up bags of things looking all across the floor.

"There isn't. I kept them all in the bag. I'm missing two." She stood up and looked around the frame and on the floor underneath her. "Are they really necessary? Is the bed going to fall if we don't have them?"

"Ron!" He yelled out into the apartment and after some running steps her sweaty brother appeared as well.

"Where's the fire?"

"Where's the dowels?" Harry pushed his hair out of his face, but continued to look.

"In the bag. Did they short you?"

"See!" She stepped over the frame and came to stand between them. "That's what I said. He must not trust my furniture building abilities." She scrunched her face at Ron and he shook his head and left the room.

"Do I just move some of them?"

"What if you transfigure something into a dowel?" Harry took the empty bag out of her hands and frowned at it.

"That won't work." Hermione's voice sang out from the living room, and then immediately started back up in a hurried whisper of spells.

"She's right." She tucked her sweaty bangs out of her face.

"She's always right." He grumbled. "Let's just forget about it. Help me move the bed onto the frame."

"If you say so boss." She laughed and they moved out into the living room, which had turned into the 'staging room' as her Mum called it. Everything had landed there, and was then taken to its appropriate place.

All in all, it was an impressive apartment. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, a beautiful wood fireplace already set on the Floo network, a large kitchen with enough room for a small breakfast table, a dining room, a living room, and a small little patio on the back. More importantly it was bright. Huge French windows let in an enormous amount of natural light into the living room. Sky lights were in the kitchen, with an enchanted window above the sink that would reflect the sky outside. Each bedroom had another window, and the bathroom had a small one above the shower.

After you went down the small entry hallway and turned right you were in the living room. It was big and expansive, blending with the dining room with just a oversized doorway separating it. Ron's room was to the back left of the living room, the bathroom in the middle, and Harry's to the right, sharing the wall with the kitchen. You could access the patio through the door in the kitchen. It was only big enough for some planters and a couple chairs, but still a nice view of the houses behind them. It was two flights of stairs to get up to Harry's apartment, but she knew she'd rarely need to use it.

Everyone had been impressed. Harry had stayed very quiet, and with a few claps of excitement from her mother and orders issued out they got to work. Hermione was set to work on the charms around the house, the same ones she had used for the tent, as well as a few other ones that everyone typically used. Her Mum was in the kitchen, like usual, making sure all the appliances were in working order, washing the new dishes, and placing her own uniquely helpful charms on the place. Ron was set to his room, she was set to building everything for Harry since Ron already owned everything he needed, and Harry was being pulled between everyone.

He pulled the plastic off the mattress and yanked it off the wall. She took a long look at it, knowing there was no way it was twin.

"So what size is this bed, exactly?" She moved to the other end and tried to lift it slightly off the ground so they could carry it toward his room.

"Big enough to share." Hermione said over her shoulder. Ginny shot her an annoyed but scandalized look, shaking her head toward the kitchen where her Mum was humming along to her work.

"It's a full." Harry growled. "Back to work, you."

Hermione just smiled at them and started her constant stream of whispered charms under her breath. They struggled with the bed into his room and then let it fall onto the frame.

"Well it didn't break on impact." She observed. "Want me to jump on it? Give it a stress test?"

He didn't say anything. Instead he grabbed her quite quickly and with a crushing hug against him jumped onto the bed. She shrieked, and then dissolved into laughter as they bounced on the mattress.

"It passed." He smiled at her. She turned her head to look at him, still shaking a little with silent laughter.

"Harry!" Her Mum yelled out, and he rolled his eyes before jumping up off the bed and taking off again. She pulled her body off the mattress and looked around for his sheets. In the corner of the room were several packages of dark grey. She started ripping the packaging off and shook out the sheets. They still smelt like a factory, this wouldn't do. She was unrolling the second set of sheets when Hermione leaned against the doorway.

"So it's his rooms' turn. Would you like a silencing charm?"

"Hermione!" She screeched out, feeling herself turn scarlet. She turned away from her, picking up the pillowcases off the floor, also dark grey. She ripped the packaging off them and then picked everything up and moved toward the frame. Hermione raised and eyebrow, and she stopped when they were shoulder to shoulder.

"Yes." She whispered and pushed past her. Hermione let out a quick laugh, and then started the routine all over again with a quick wave of her wand.

Right at the end of the hallway from the front door was the small closet that housed the washing machine and dryer. She dumped all the sheets into the washer and then moved back into the living room to find the large box of household supplies that her Mum had prepared for the boys. Tucked behind the wood polish, and counter cleaner was the lavender laundry soap that was always used in her house. It felt fitting somehow that a part of the Burrow, a very vivid memory of it, would be here in the new house.

She set the soap in, let the laundry start, and then moved back into the room. She still had a dresser and a bed stand to build. She threw the window open wider and let the breeze hit her for a second before slumping at the sight of the two still boxed pieces. He was going to owe her, something big, something meaningful. Not a dinner, or a date. Maybe a new broom. Yes, for the upcoming year, she'd need something good anyway. Everyone knew the school brooms were notoriously slow.

She ripped open the box for the dresser and started pulling the pieces apart. She pulled out the directions and not a single one was in English. With a frustrated huff she tucked her sticky hair behind her ear and tried to decipher the pictures. A nice broom, a Nimbus 2000 at least.

She was spread eagle across the empty living room floor. Everything hurt, especially her hands, they ached due to the intricate work she'd had to do in assembling every single piece of furniture in Harry's room on her own. The sun had set, the evening breeze was blowing through the apartment, the quiet hum of the street below wafted up on the breeze. She lifted her head and they were lined up against the wall, Hermione, then Ron, and then Harry. Everything was done. What Ron had thought would take two days only took one. The couches, tables, chairs, and rugs would come tomorrow, along with the locksmith.

They were all quiet, just appreciating all they had accomplished when her Mother walked into the room, smiling.

"It's lovely. Really."

"Thanks." Harry said slowly and happily.

"So what name is it registered as? So we can Floo here." Her Mum picked up her purse and slug it over her shoulder.

"3 Tower Street." He said and then laughed. Hermione gave him a playful slap. "Sorry, they asked if I wanted a name or the address, and I couldn't think of a name."

"3 Tower Street." Her Mum repeated and then shook her head slightly. "Come Ginny, let's go home."

"Do I have to? Can't I just sleep here, on this floor? It's so comfortable." She moaned, refusing to move.

"It won't feel amazing at three in the morning." Her Mum stood over her and gave a disapproving look.

"Slave driver!" She grumbled, and then rolled, slowly to her side. Her back let out an enormous pop.

"Oh!" The three let out against the wall. Hermione leaned against Ron, and dissolved into giggles. Her Mum bent down and offered a hand, and with a loud moan she was off the floor and being dragged toward the fireplace. After a fistful of Floo her Mum was off without her. Ginny turned back around and looked at them, still lined up against the wall. Ron was running a hand over Hermione's hair, and Harry had a faint smile on his face. It seemed fitting, right, or maybe it was just habit, but she didn't feel like she belonged there. Before she could get bitter about it she called out,

"See you lot tomorrow!"

She grabbed a fist full of Floo and cocked back her arm to toss it in when she could sense him behind her.

"So let me see how your room turned out, Ron." Hermione said, her voice echoing in the living room without any furniture in it. With a groan from Ron they were gone, and she turned around to find him right next to her.

"Thanks for all your help today."

"That's what girlfriends are for, manual labor." She smiled. Without another word he closed the gap between them, and they went stumbling against the fireplace. She registered the soft hiss of Floo as it fell out of her hand and all over the floor. But then it was all Harry, his hands, his lips, his hot breath, his body. It felt like he hadn't touched her in days, and that was partly true. She was still on her toes, trying to stay as close as possible to him, when, with one break in contact, he had lifted her off the floor, her legs snapped around his waist, and her back bumped up against the fireplace again.

White hot lust pulsed though her core and she felt herself melt into the moment. His hands were running up and down her thighs, occasionally grabbing her backside to lift her up again. She had the back of his stiff t-shirt clenched in her hands, and was alternating between deep, frantic kisses, and quick ragged drags of breath. Then they both heard them, coming back out toward the living room, and he neatly dropped her back to the floor. She started tugging at her clothes, and then turned him around to whack at the handprint of Floo across his back. They were back to normal by the time Hermione and Ron sauntered into the empty dining room. She was trying to control the heaving breath that was still coming from her chest, and was pretty sure she had to be flushed, Harry's lips were still bright red.

"You should get home, Ginny. We all have to do this again tomorrow." Ron lightly said, but his eyes were looking her over in a very brotherly sort of way. Before he could say anything, she reached up and kissed Harry and the cheek and then grabbed another handful of Floo. She tossed it in, and with one radiant smile to them, clearly said,

"The Burrow."

* * *

~*~

Since day two was mostly waiting around she took her time. Her Mother had already set up a pain potion next to her tea and juice. She gulped it down before the food and then grabbed a piece of toast.

"Are you coming along today?" She asked over her tea. Her Mum, still scanning through the paper glanced up, distracted.

"No. I have work to do." She frowned at the paper again.

"What is it?" Ginny leaned over her plate to get a better look.

"Death Eaters. Still out there. The Ministry seems to be having a difficult time arresting them. Of course it's just going to be months and months of trial while all this is going on. I've read Lucius Malfoy is up first for his crimes."

"I hope they sentence him to death." She fumed, remembering just how often Lucius Malfoy had ruined the lives of people around her, in particular her own.

"Death would be too good for a man that evil." Her Mother darkly said, and then folded up the paper quickly and tossed it toward her father's chair. It was so quiet with just the two of them. Peaceful, if it hadn't been so unnerving. "You received something from Neville."

"Thanks." She sipped her tea and reached for the envelope. With one hand she shook it open, while the other continued to let the hot tea splash down to her stomach and wake her up.

_Hi Ginny,_

_Haven't heard from you in while. Just wanted to see if you were up to going to the Cannon's match next week before we leave for school. They won't be great seats, but it could be fun. Just let me know._

_Cheers,_

_Neville_

She looked at the letter for a long moment. If Ron and Hermione would go with her it would be fine. But she got the feeling that if she were to go with Neville alone that would be a very bad idea. It was strange, when they were at Hogwarts they did stuff alone all the time. Then again it was usually a high stress situation that didn't require the need for small talk and awkward pauses.

"Pig?" She called out, and then remembered that the bird had gone with Ron. Errol, bless his old heart, was used only in small matters. It gave her a reason to go earlier anyway. The smile broke across her face, and she downed the last of her juice and went to go get ready.

Hermione was already sitting at the dining room table, a dark mahogany one with four matching chairs. She flipped the newspaper and looked up and smiled. Behind her movers were setting down the long couch. It was a dark brown color, matching the coffee table as well as the dining room one. She pulled out the chair next to Hermione and leaned back slightly, her knees catching on the lip of the table so she wouldn't fall over.

"Do you think Harry's colorblind?"

"Why would you ask that?" She also frowned at the paper this morning, and continued to read.

"Everything is brown or grey. Ron's room is the only one that has any color to it." She snatched the last piece of toast off Hermione's plate and tried to look at the article she was reading. It was the same as the one her Mother had scoffed at.

"I think it matches well with the walls and the wood floors." She answered, distracted, as her hand absently reached down to grab the toast that wasn't there. After some probing she looked down, and then up at Ginny who shoved the last of it into her mouth and let the chair come down with a bang against the floor.

"You better make me more toast." Hermione grumbled. Ginny just laughed and quickly sped off to Ron's room in search of Pig.

Ron was still sleeping. His snores only reached her when she passed the threshold into his room. Everything was orange: bright, obnoxious, Cannon's orange. Pig was hooting happily near the window, with a gorgeous view of Diagon Alley's rooftops. She scratched down her yes to Neville on the scraps of paper and quills that Ron always kept by his cage. With a quick pet he took off through the window and disappeared into the morning sun. She snuck back out of the room and crossed back into the living room. Hermione was still scanning the paper as the movers brought in the love seat and started to take all the plastic and cardboard off it.

"Is Harry awake yet?"

"Would I be here so early if he was?" Hermione disdainfully answered, continuing to read. That was all she needed to know. She cracked open the door, and stepped into his still dark room. The linen grey curtains that she'd hung were still blocking most of the light, casting shadows from the dresser in the corner and the night stand by his bed all across the dark hard wood floors. The only other thing in the room was the bed, huge against the dimensions of the other pieces of furniture, and commanding in the center of the room. Lost within the dark grey comforter and sheets she saw a shadow of hair and tipped toed closer to the bed. He was still fast asleep, an actual sleep, not the fitful kind she had grown so accustomed to seeing him in.

She felt giddy from the idea of privacy. Between Hermione watching the movers, Ron still asleep, and the silencing charms that were put up on the rooms, she could have this entire morning with Harry and no one would be the wiser. The mood went straight to her brain, and instead of the calm and rational way she knew she should wake him up, she felt vindictive. He was always startling her, now it was time to return the favor.

Quietly she took off her shoes, moved to the other side of the bed, and pushed herself flat against the wall. With one giggling breath she took two huge bounds and jumped in the air, aiming for the bed. She landed with a laugh, and not even a second later, the whole bed tilted down, and then collapsed to the floor with a spectacular crash.

"What the…" Harry sat straight up in bed, slapping around for his glasses, that were now far behind him since the bed had fallen forward. She couldn't stop laughing, curled up on her side, and then his hand landed on her and stopped.

"Ginny? What happened?" He squinted at her, and she tried to calm herself down. All she could manage was,

"Dowels."

He fell back down onto the bed, and put a hand over his heart, which she was sure must have been pumping out of control. She sat up and moved closer to him, her thigh resting against his covered side.

"You should have seen your face!" She laughed, and leaned back on her hands, feeling like she was getting lost in all the bedding. Only her parents had ever had a bed this big before. It really was big enough to share, and that thought warmed her limbs.

"I was sleeping. Finally, actually sleeping." He moaned, and then leaned up to grab her arm and yank her down next to him. He was laying down flat on the bed, her head landing on his arm, and her body rolling to the side up against him. Despite the fact that she was still on top of the covers it felt very intimate. Harry didn't seem to notice and just grumbled, "We're going back to sleep now."

He turned toward her and wrapped his very muscular arm around her waist and trapped her. They were face to face now, close enough that she could see the bags under his eyes in detail. He closed his eyes and relaxed.

"Your couches are here."

"I'm sleeping." He grumbled.

"And your tables."

"Sleeping." He said again and smiled, still keeping his eyes shut. Twisting a hand out she ran her fingers through his still long hair. It was almost like it had a mind of its own. It was soft and smooth now, most likely from a shower last night after she left, but still sticking out at weird angles, and clumping up into twists across his head. He'd never had hair this long before, she wasn't quite sure if she liked it. She'd always appreciated it when he'd come to the Burrow after weeks of not seeing him and he'd have short hair.

Her stretch of silence was making it quiet easy for him to slowly fall back to sleep. His breath was coming out slow and even, his arms pulled her closer and closer. Her own body was warming up to the idea of going back to sleep, but that would have caused a multitude of problems, and she didn't have the patients today to deal with her brother's misplaced and annoying rage. She leaned forward, closing the small gap to lightly kiss him before she left. He wasn't as asleep as she'd thought.

He leaned into the kiss, instantly deepening it, his five o'clock shadow scratching against her face. The startled noise that tried to escape from her throat instantly broke off, and his hand meandered up under her shirt. The tension melted out of her, replaced by anticipation. Her heart started hammering away in her throat, she could feel her blood start to heat up. They started rolling across the bed, she was almost flat, and Harry was leaning over her on the arm that was still under her head. She was trapped by the covers and tried to wiggle out. Somehow it managed to tangle her further, she broke off for a moment and panted out,

"Covers."

He grabbed them up in his hand and started yanking them down, she lifted her hips off the bed for a moment, and then they were both covered. Without the barrier between them a warning went off in the back of her mind. This was dangerous. Very, very dangerous. Her hands ran up under his shirt and pushed it up over his head, tossing it casually to the floor. His fumbling hands started unzipping her jacket and then shook as he took it off arm by arm. She realized he was nervous. Stupidly dangerous. She was wearing a very light t-shirt underneath, making her bra quite visible. She had never intended on taking the jacket off today. He swallowed hard and ran a hand up under her shirt. Her fingers pulled at the tie on his pajama bottoms, making them come loose. Recklessly dangerous. Her body burned, her breath coming quick and fast from all the kissing, every nerve ending felt electrified. He slid his hand out from under her head, and she fell flat against the bed. Trembling fingers unbuttoned her jeans and then he ran a hand down them grabbing her ass as he pushed them off. Life alteringly dangerous. She kicked her jeans off, letting them get lost in the sea of grey, and he moved to hang over her. He slid a hand under, and then pulled them both up. Sitting on the bed, her hair falling down her back, he locked eyes with her for a moment, and then pulled up her shirt over her head, the final line of defense. They fell back down to the bed, his weight on top of her made her core give a giant bolt and then swim with fire. Somehow he'd lost his pants as well, his boxers caressed against the bare skin of her thighs. There was an intoxicating amount of flesh being pressed against her. This was a no turning back kind of dangerous. With one hand running down her back, snapping off her bra, his mouth was running a line of kisses toward her panties. He disappeared under the sheets, her body melted with want; his hot palm ran down her leg.

Danger. Danger. Danger. Her mind warned her. He wasn't going to stop, she knew he wasn't, he'd said it. He'd only stop if she told him to. Did she want to? His bead scraped across her stomach and she let out an involuntary groan. He was hot and ready, his fingers pulled at the line of her panties and her body exploded, but her mind shot off one last warning: You're not ready. It was so random and unexpected that it put a temporary stopper on the lust growing out of containment within her. And she knew she wasn't. This was just the pressure of him leaving. She needed to hear the words. As much as she hated her brain for being right, this wasn't how she wanted it to happen. Not when he was about to take off. With an irritated groan she pushed through the rebuilding lust of his hands slowly sliding all over her body and moaned,

"Harry, stop."

"Sure." He lightly laughed against her thigh.

"No, really, you need to stop." She panted and threw the covers off him. His hair was a mess all over his head, his chest was heaving, but he sat up and wrapped his arms across his chest.

"What did I do?"

"Nothing." She felt the tears build up behind her eyes, and sat up, pulling her legs to her chest.

"Ginny?" He pleaded.

"I'm not ready." She whispered. The first tear betrayed her and fell down her face. It was the strangest feeling she'd ever had, to be upset, and throbbing with anticipation at the same time. He fell back on his heels and put his hands over his face, letting out a long sigh. Then he quickly pulled them away and crawled across the bed to sit next to her.

"I'm sorry. I should have stopped."

She didn't have anything to say, the tears building hot and fast behind her eyes. She had temporary control over them, but saying anything would unleash them. Instead she leaned against him, and he wrapped an arm around her. They sat there, on his broken bed for a long moment until she gained control back and wiped at her face. He kissed the top of her head, and then rested it there for a moment.

"I'm so confused."

"So am I." He mumbled. "But if you aren't ready, then you aren't."

"Thanks." She let her legs roll out across the sheets, the covers twisted and coiled all over the bed.

"I'd do anything for you, Ginny. Even if it's slowing all this down." He shifted uncomfortably next to her and let out a small noise in the back of his throat. She sighed. A very bad part of her never wanted him to stop. But if there were even one part of her that needed him to then they would have to wait. "Ron's going to be up soon."

He pulled away from her hair and then reached down her back, she leaned forward and he re-snapped her bra. She grabbed her shirt, and then leaned across the bed to get her jeans. As she got off the bed to get redressed Harry pulled the comforter back over himself and leaned back against the headboard, his eyes closed.

"Harry," she started, suddenly feeling very guilty for ever landing on his bed and starting this whole mess.

"Don't say you're sorry." He shot her a gorgeous dark green look. "I just need a minute."

"Right." She nodded, grabbing her jacket off the floor and slipping on her shoes. "I'll just be…outside." She stuttered and backed out of the room. He gave her a strained smile and then she pressed herself against the closed door, looking out on the finished living room, Hermione curled up on the loveseat a book in her hand.

She looked up at her, startled for a moment, and then turned white. She opened her eyes a little wider, and sat up on the couch, tossing the book aside. Ginny put a nervous hand through her tangled hair and Hermione quietly asked,

"Ginny?"

"No."

Hermione stood up and grabbed her jacket off the back of the couch. She felt a knot start to form in her throat again, and tried to push it down.

"Come on. Let's go to the grocer and get some food for lunch."

"Okay." She blindly followed her out the door, still throbbing with every step, and regretting that she left the further she got from his room.

* * *

~*~

"Do you think Ron would like roast beef, or ham?" Hermione puzzled over the meat section.

"He won't care. He'll just shove it in his face and swallow." She moped and turned away from the display.

"Well, I know Harry prefers the roast beef. I guess I'll just get that." She decided and picked up the package. Ginny's stomach dropped out. There was another reason she made the right choice. She didn't know Harry liked roast beef more then ham, and yet she was seconds away from….

"Arg." She said more to herself. "Are you almost done?"

Hermione looked up surprised, throwing the roast beef into the basket and slightly nodding before moving up close and asking, "do you want to talk about it?"

"No." Ginny snapped.

"Are you sure?" Hermione prodded, moving toward the front of the store and she sullenly followed. Behind them the meat section exploded with whispers and she rolled her eyes.

"Not here." She hissed and stood in line. Turning toward the magazine rack she came face to face with herself. For a long moment she just stared at her face, then the glossy wizarding picture turned, said something to Harry, and they both flinched. "What is this?"

"Oh." Hermione blanched and then set her items down. "I thought you'd already seen those."

"And you have?"

"This was a bad idea." Hermione bit her lip and glanced around at the customers who were peeking through the isles. "I should have just left you there."

"No," she lowered her voice and moved up close to her. "I'm sorry. Thanks for giving me a reason to leave."

"These pictures have been circling around since the game. Harry knew about them already. I thought you did too." She moved toward the check out clerk who dropped a can of tomatoes in surprise upon seeing the two of them.

"C...C...cash or card?" She stuttered and passed the can down the belt. Hermione was digging through her pockets for money; unaware of the clerk still staring slack jawed at the two of them.

"Cash." Ginny supplied and Hermione looked up.

"Oh, yes. Cash." She started matching all her money up, Muggle and Wizarding mixing together.

"Holy crap. Holy crap." The clerk started whispering under her breath. Hermione looked up with a dangerously arched eyebrow at the girl, Ginny felt herself start to grown uneasy. This was going nowhere good. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. But I have to ask."

She trained her blue eyes onto Ginny and put her hands over her mouth for a second as if she was stifling a scream. Hermione slapped down the money for the food onto the counter,

"Well, get on with it."

"Sorry. But what's it like, being Harry Potter's girlfriend?"

Ginny looked at Hermione out of the corner of her eye, Hermione had her mouth set, but her eyes were sparkling with unshed laughter.

"Great?" It came out as a question. What was she supposed to say? Frustrating, confusing, at times hotter then she could handle? This only seemed to encourage the girl, her hands flew to her mouth for a second and then she counted out Hermione's money. She was the only one at her station, so fumbling with her wand for a moment she then started bagging the groceries.

"Is it true that he has a giant tattoo of a Norwegian Ridgeback across his chest?" The poor girl was practically hyperventilating with anticipation of the answer. Hermione actually snorted next to her and grabbed up the bag and change from the counter. Ginny smiled at her, and trying her best not to laugh, looked the girl dead in the eyes and whispered,

"No comment."

The clerk stopped breathing and she picked up the pace to catch up with Hermione. Right as they were about to leave the store the clerk's shrill voice cut over the bustle of the customers and she yelled out,

"You owe me 50 knuts, Elizabeth!"

"And so the legend lives on." Hermione smiled and they started walking back toward the apartment. Everyone on the street seemed too busy to notice them as they passed, but would then do a double take and start whispering fiercely in their wake.

"I don't know if I like this whole, whispers follow us wherever we go situation." Ginny said under her breath to Hermione.

"Better get used to it. This is your life now." She shifted the bag and they rounded the corner of Diagon Alley onto Tower Street.

"I find it hard to believe that people will be whispering around us forever. Surely the novelty of it will wear off."

"You'd think." Hermione sighed, and then they paused in front of the building. "Jello."

"He's such a prat." Ginny grumbled under her breath and Hermione laughed as the apartment popped into place. They moved across the street and started taking the first flight of stairs.

"Ginny, are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"What is there to say?" She tromped up the steps and they reached the second flight.

"Alright." Hermione shifted the bag again and then turned the knob to the apartment. But there was plenty to say, plenty to discuss, and plenty for her to figure out. Harry had been right about one thing; whatever it was between them was dangerous. She needed to decide, was she going to cross this line or not. It wasn't fair to keep leading them both on to unfulfilled wanting. It was almost as if a timer started going off in her brain. She had less then three days now.

"I love you! I love you! I love you!" Ron rushed them at the threshold and grabbed Hermione and the groceries into a large spin. Hermione let out a shriek of surprise and then a muffled laugh as Ron landed a rather large kiss on her. Ginny looked away to the living room, and was met with a smoldering look from Harry.

Two days.

* * *

~*~

Author's Notes:

My apologies go out to Harry on this one. I do love to torture him. My bottomless pit of thanks go to my team of editors. Gracias. Merci. Thank you!

Special thanks to friendsofhagrid for having to give me the sad news that she didn't think dogs exsisted in the wizarding world...it's a hard job but someone has to keep me Canon consistant! So many thanks!


	13. Chapter 13

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 13~

_For unless they see the sky_

_But they can't and that is why_

_They know not if it's dark outside_

_Or light._

_Spanish Harlem by Elton John_

_

* * *

_

**_Author's Note:_**

_Just a brief comment before we start. Thanks for your patients with the long delay between the last chapter. There were birthdays, and Vegas, and Marathon's...oh my!_

_Secondly, about the whole DOG situation I'd like to clarify something. First to apologize to friendsofhagrid for dragging her into this, and second to all my faithful readers for making them think I knew nothing about HP. I should have clarified in the little dedication that both friendsofhagrid and I KNOW that there are dogs in the Wizarding World. Anyone who reads the series would know that. But the quote in question was Ginny to Harry about Ron. She told Harry Ron was acting like a puppy (changed to a two year old), and we had both agreed that while there were dogs in the Wizarding World we had never, in Canon, read about a pure blood Wizarding family OWNING a dog as a pet. Especially the Weasley's. So Ginny would not have that point of reference, and being a dog lover that made me slightly sad...hence the comment._

_Sorry for the firestorm of comments this created. Hopefully that won't happen again. I tend to err on the side of caution when it comes to being Canon consistent so some things might be a little more boring...but they are RIGHT! LOL!_

_Thanks again for reading...enjoy...  
_

* * *

~*~

Harry had quickly taken off after lunch, citing some final things he needed to firm up before he left. He was back to not touching her at all again. Hermione had given her a sympathetic smile, but she hadn't returned it. She didn't need a friend with her in purgatory, she'd sent herself there all on her own. She'd have to dig her way out at this point.

"What could he possibly need to do?" She gripped and picked at the crust on the discarded sandwich. "Set up some kind of rent situation?"

"Ginny," Ron sounded bemused. "He doesn't have to pay rent. He owns this apartment. He bought it. I'm paying for the utilities until he comes back and then we split it."

"Oh." She fell silent as Ron shook his head and started picking up all the plates and glasses. It was easy to forget the fortune that Harry possessed when he was going around buying grey sheets and wearing worn through t-shirts. "I'm going home."

"Stay!" Hermione interjected. "Please, stay."

"Nah," she pulled at her jacket and walked over to the fireplace. "I'll just mope around, ruin all your fun."

"I'm sure Mum needs some help anyway. We'll all be there in a couple hours." Ron nodded and started wiping off the table. It was dismissive, quite dismissive. Almost as if he was a moment away from peeing on the table to mark the apartment as his own. Her anger boiled, but she bit her tongue and grabbed a handful of Floo. Hermione gave him a scandalized look and took a big breath to start her tirade. But she turned before she could see it,

"The Burrow." She growled and was shot off back home.

* * *

~*~

She was on her second bag of potatoes when her Mum reappeared in the kitchen with an armful of veggies. She had needed lots of help, and since she was the only remaining Weasley she could guilt into it, her afternoon had consisted of mind numbing cleaning, followed quickly by mind numbing cooking.

"Big night tonight. It will be so nice to have the whole family around again. Very fitting since everyone is about to start up schools and jobs and the such. Nice end to the summer I think. Don't you dear?"

"Yeah." She flicked her wand at the potato again for a scrubbing. Since coming of age she was able to use magic to cook and clean, but it didn't necessarily mean that she was good at it. Not yet at least. She swore sometimes she could hear Flitwick's voice in her ear, swish and flick.

"I was thinking on ideas of how to change the rooms around. Maybe have one being a sewing room for me, or an office for your father. We'll need a nice big room to change into a nursery for the babies. Of course your room will stay the same."

"Of course." She brought down her wand with considerable force and the potato sliced into quarters.

"I know this is difficult, but isn't change what Jenna wanted for you? All this change seems to be making you better. You haven't had a blackout in quite a few days now." She sensed her Mum looking at her and stopped the methodic rhythm she'd gotten herself into.

"It's great."

"Then why are you moping?" Her Mum crossed her arms and fixed her knowing eyes upon her.

"It's nothing Mum. I'm fine." She gave her a quick glance and then started up with the potatoes again.

"I know when my baby isn't fine." She moved across the floor and put a warm hand over her own, stopping her scrubbing and cutting. "He's going to be alright dear."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" She moaned and leaned back in her chair, covering her face. She really didn't want to blow up at her Mum, but the anxious anger was starting to surface.

"Because you are radiating worry. Give Harry some credit. Auror school is only difficult and dangerous because of what you're learning. He's not going to come across any real kind of danger until he's done."

"But he shouldn't at all!" She exploded and pushed the chair back with such force the potatoes started rolling to the floor with soft thuds. "He shouldn't be risking his life like this. He's such an idiot!"

"It's his choice." Her Mum quietly countered.

"Well, he chose wrong!" She shouted. "And I seem to be the only one that has the guts to tell him."

"Because you love him." She put a hand on her shoulder. That only made her angrier.

"Everyone loves Harry. He's easy to love." She stood up, needing to move, before the anger caused something to snap. She'd been trying so hard to keep control on her emotions for the past few days. But this morning had brought her to breaking point.

"Ah," her Mum caught her jacket and stopped her pacing. "But you love him in a different way then we all do. You have more vested in him, you expect more out of him, and so you have more reasons to be mad at him. But you can't control him."

"I don't ever want to _control_ him." She choked, the tears now starting to build. "I just want him to really think about what he's doing. To everyone. To us. But he's so stubborn he won't listen to me." The first angry tear broke down her face and she hastily wiped it away.

"Harry…will be Harry. And he could say the same thing about you." Her Mum lightly said, moving her closer and closer into her warm embrace. "Auror school is his choice. Hogwarts is yours. You have to live with your decision."

"We're going to change. We'll come back for Christmas and," she broke off. Trying to stop the rush of tears that were suddenly threatening to come through. "What if he's a stranger to me? What if he doesn't like me anymore? What if I don't like him?"

"You'll just have to wait and see." Her Mum pulled her close against her, and just like in childhood the tears broke free and she sobbed into her,

"But I've waited so long for this."

The truth. The final, ugly, unstoppable truth, managed to make its way up through the anger, and the depression, the sickness, and the anxiety. She had been waiting. Waiting six years for this. Even during their extremely brief moment of happiness in her fifth year she knew it would be short lived. She could see it in his face, read it in his shoulders, she had anticipated the breakup far before it had formulated in his own mind. And now he was taking it all away from her, again. This time felt even worse then before, like a stinging cold slap, because this time there wasn't anything getting in their way. Just him. She sobbed into her Mum as she smoothed out her hair,

"Oh, Ginny."

"What am I going to do?" She cried, her arms wrapping around her Mum, feeling the familiar comfort there. She'd always have the answer.

"Oh dear. Oh, dear. You just have to be brave, my love." She kissed the top of her head. "If it was meant to be, then it will happen. If he was meant for you, then nothing will come between you." She pulled her back and fixed her with a glassy stare of her own. "And if something does, then he never deserved you."

"Mum." She bit her lip to try and halt the never ending pool of tears that continued to splash down.

"No. Sweetheart, I do love Harry, like a son. But you are my daughter." She wrapped her hands firmly around her arms and gave her a fierce look. "And if he is too daft to notice how perfect you are, then good riddance. It's _your_ happiness that is my ultimate goal, not his."

"Mum." She cried again, realizing that she had been missing this feeling of fierce love that had always calmed her in the past, like only a Mother's love could do.

"I've tried to keep my nose out of your business. Your Father told me to let you two figure it out on your own. And I'm going to. But," and she smiled, her eyes twinkling with delight. "I've never seen anyone look at you like that, like the way he does. A love like that is frightening because of its intensity, dear. You are terrified to lose it, and terrified to accept it, because it seems too big, too unreal. And it burns with such a passion that you feel as if you might lose yourself within it."

"Yes. Yes, it does." She nodded, alarmed at how close to the truth her Mum was getting.

"But it's worth it. If you are brave enough to accept it, everything that comes with it…it is always worth it in the end." She smiled. "Your Father was always worth it, not matter what has happened to our family."

"I'm just scared." She sniffled, starting to finally calm back down.

"As you should be." Her Mum hugged her tightly and ran a hand down her hair again. Then she pulled away and flicked her wand, a small red box, with a dark red bow around it floated between them. "I got you this today."

"What is it?" She grabbed the box from her hands and pulled off the bow. Inside were twelve vials. Twelve very familiar looking vials. She felt her face go scarlet and heat up within an instant. "Mum." She said scandalized and slammed the lid shut, the bow quickly snapping back into place.

"I'm not an idiot, Ginny. And I don't want to know. Whatever has or hasn't happened, I don't want to know. But I do want you to be safe." She patted the box, and then smiled. "I would prefer if you waited until you were married. It seems very vulgar otherwise. But, it's easy to get careless when you're in love."

"This is so embarrassing." She said through her teeth, and shoved the box under her jacket, needing to hide it from anyone's sight to spare her the humiliation.

"Always be prepared. That's my motto." She gave her a pat on the head, and then hugged her again. "I love you, dear."

"I love you too, Mum." She gave her a one armed hug, still holding the offending box. "I'm gonna go hide this now."

"Of course. I'll just keep cooking." She started picking up the potatoes off the floor. Ginny raced up the stairs and stashed the box under her covers, vowing to find a much better hiding place in the bottom of her Hogwarts trunk later on. By the time she'd made it back downstairs Charlie had already arrived.

* * *

~*~

"So there's Scotty, floating above the den, dodging the fireballs that keep coming at him. All the while, Rick is yelling out, 'Don't show any fear Scotty! Don't show fear!' We couldn't stop laughing." Charlie chuckled and took another drink of his wine. "Eventually we were able to get him down. But you best believe Scotty won't be volunteering for egg retrieval again."

"You're far too mean to your green horns, Charlie." She laughed over her wine glass and eased back into her chair. Only the guest of honor remained absent. Everyone was there; even Ron and Hermione had shown up, sans Harry. An enormous turkey appeared before her Mum, and landed in the middle of the table with a soft thud.

"Magnificent!" Percy smiled.

"Thank you, dear." Her Mum beamed at him.

"Where could he bloody be? I'm starving." Ron grumbled. As if on cue the fireplace exploded with dust and out popped Harry, with extremely short hair.

"That a boy!" Bill called out, and the family started clapping and laughing, as a blushing Harry hastily moved toward the table.

"Sorry everyone. They held me up at the Ministry for longer then I expected." He shook Bill and Charlie's hands, and then plopped down right next to her. In the seat that had subconsciously been left for him, or consciously, she wasn't quite sure yet.

"Let's have a toast before we dig in." Her Father rose from his seat and everyone raised a glass of whatever they had been holding. "To family, to friends. To beginnings and ends. May the close of this summer, bring a bountiful fall. May we all achieve what we reach for, and may we all stay safe while doing it. Cheers!"

"Cheers!" Everyone rang out.

"Short and sweet, just how I like it." George smiled, and then was the first one to snag a roll off the table.

"Manners, George!" Her Mother admonished and slapped at his hand. Everyone laughed, and settled in.

* * *

~*~

Hermione had been the one to suggest it. A game of exploding snap up in Ron's room, for old times sake. She was blushed with wine, and giddy at the thought of being able to run her fingers through Harry's short hair, once they were alone, which they hadn't been since his arrival. They bumped up the steps, wine glasses clinking against each other in Hermione's hands, and then stumbled into the room. Hermione quickly set a blue bell flame in each of the four glasses and set them around the small space, filling it with an eerie but bright blue light.

"Got us a new deck." Ron pulled it out of his robes and started unwrapping it. Then Harry cleared his throat and reached into his jacket.

"I…um…need you guys to sign something."

"What?" Ron stopped, Hermione's face dropped and she kept her eyes on the three scrolls that he pulled from his pocket.

"Harry?" She pressed and he handed each of them one. She quickly unrolled hers and her heart dropped into her stomach. In bold, black letters across the top of the scroll was: Last Will and Testament. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"I'm afraid not." He took a hesitant breath.

"What's going on?" Hermione looked from the paper to him a few times, before shakily putting it to the ground.

"Pretty morbid way to ruin our fun mate." Ron added.

"I'm sorry, but it's mandatory. They won't let me go unless I drafted my will. Which is what took me so long today. But, here it is. I'm leaving everything to you three." He looked at each of them, the blue flickering lights casting a creepy glow across his features. "I tried to make it fair."

She looked down at the paper and held her breath. It was written in beautiful script across the aged parchment:

**Last Will and Testament of Harry James Potter**

I, Harry James Potter, upon the event of my death, do hereby bequeath to Ginevra Molly Weasley the following:

1) A third of the contents of Vault 423, including but not limited to family heirlooms and jewelry.

2) The remains and property of Godric's Hollow.

3) The Marauder's Map

She let go and it rolled back up onto itself. She couldn't keep looking. She felt nauseous and sweaty all at once. Ron and Hermione were both silent.

"Don't make this harder then it has to be. I can't leave if you don't sign the damn will. I'm not intending on dying." Harry angrily said and blew out a short breath.

"Just give us a second to process this, please." Hermione snapped at him. She looked over the will again and then conjured a quill. She hastily signed her name and then shoved the scroll back at him. Ron did the same, and then all three turned to her. Her hands were shaking so bad she kept them folded in her lap.

How could they have signed them so fast and easily? How could they overlook the eerie irony of having what in all pretenses was a dead man make them sign his will? She swallowed against her heaving, heavy stomach and looked down at the floor.

"Ginny don't be stubborn." Ron started. "Don't make this weird."

"Ron," Hermione seethed and she heard her smack him. "Ginny take your time. Do you want to be alone?"

"What's the big deal anyway? So he had to mark up a will. I think he should have marked one up when he was 12, so you're just a few years late, mate." Ron laughed and started unwrapping the deck again.

"Thanks." Harry growled and shoved Ron and Hermione's wills back into his jacket.

"Honestly, Ginny." Ron started shuffling the cards. "He hasn't died yet. Well, not completely. It's just standard procedure for Auror School. It's like signing a release form. You never think anything bad is going to happen, but you need something there just in case." He started passing out the cards to everyone. Hermione was biting her lip, her eyes bouncing back and forth between herself and Harry.

She looked back down at the scroll, Exploding Snap cards sliding up underneath it. Signing it would be admitting her biggest fear, that he wasn't coming back. And being forced to inherit his belongings, and property, and money, and jewelry…things that were personal to only him,

"It's too much, Harry."

"Just take a deep breath." Ron prodded an irritated edge to his voice.

"Not that you prick." She snapped and Ron quickly closed his mouth. "I just feel like…"

"If I don't assign it, they'd have to pass it on to my immediate family. I don't have any immediate family, Ginny. Which means it would go to my living relatives, and I only have the Dursley's. I don't want them to get any of it. It has to go to you." His eyes bored into her, and she felt herself flush as she swallowed back the nausea again.

"But honestly, you're giving me G." Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and she couldn't move it. For a panicked moment she thought something had gone horribly wrong. But Hermione put a hand on her shoulder,

"Part of will writing. You can't divulge what was bequeathed to you until the official reading of the will, upon the author's death." She gave her a squeeze and then let go, picking up her cards.

"Sign it, or at least pick it up, your cards are going to start smoking soon." Ron said and shuffled his cards around. "Stop making this weird. Harry's not going to die."

"Fine." She set her mouth, conjured a quill out one of her cards, and scratched her name across the bottom of the scroll. As the last letter dried a jolt went up her arm and the quill fluttered back down to the floor as a card, missing one of the black diamonds.

"Thank you." Harry said quietly, pinning her to the floor with apologetic green. They were the only two that at least appeared to understand the gravitas of signing her name. Not only was it admitting her worst fear, it was saying that it was okay, that she was alright with him going away. She could have refused to sign it, trapping him here.

"You're welcome." She said to her cards, not wanting to show him just how much she didn't want to sign it. But she couldn't deny him. If there was one solid constant when it came to her and Harry it was that they couldn't deny each other. She grabbed up her cards and they promptly exploded in her hands, leaving dark soot all over her face.

"Now if you would have just signed it we wouldn't have had to reshuffle and start over." Ron threw his cards down, amused but annoyed. She threw her cards at him and with quick work of her wand shot a bat boogey hex at his face. Expecting it he ducked and it splattered against the wall, little bat wings flapping madly on the worn paint. Hermione let out a shriek of laughter, and she couldn't help but join in.

"You're too quick." She grumbled and started to reshuffle the cards.

"Practice." He dead panned.

"You just wait Ronni-kins. I'm coming for you. When you least expect it." She warned and tucked her wand away, slowly.

"And now for the less dramatic part of the night." Ron ignored her and started passing the cards out again. She grabbed them up, shifting them in order, and then waited for the first person to drop their card. The room alternating between flickering blue, and sizzling green and red sparks, as they played over and over again.

* * *

~*~

Her Mum and Dad were downstairs, whispering and laughing to each other in the kitchen as they finished off a bottle of wine and the dishes. Hermione and Ron had already taken off for whatever salacious affairs they were up to these days. Her brothers had cleared out hours earlier. It just left her and Harry, leaning against what used to be his wall, throwing cards at her sneakers on the opposite wall, trying to make them inside. The blue bell lights were still flickering happily in all four corners, filling the room with light and then darkness in second intervals. He narrowed his eyes in concentration and tried to throw the card as flat as possible; it hit against the wall and fell just short of inside her shoe.

"Aw! I think your shoe is cheating." He smiled and looked over at her. Her fingers itched to touch him, her heart was already mourning his departure, and her mind supplied what she had tried to forget all day. Two days.

"You're just not any good." She smiled through her forming sorrow. She knew it had come out sadder then she had intended. But instead of looking at him, she grabbed another card off the floor and tried herself to send it flat and agile toward the pair of sneakers. The same ones that had been at the hospital, the same ones that had been covered in door shards, the same ones that had been one of the only pieces of clothing left on at Fleur's house, and the first ones to come off at Harry's. The same shoes that had flown all over Wizarding England what felt like months ago. This summer had been too much. She threw another card and it fell flat against the wall, no where close to the shoes.

"Just promise me one thing, Harry."

"Anything."

It was so quick and serious she dropped the remaining cards and turned to him. His eyes still bright even with the sporadic blue lighting.

"Come back to me."

"Ginny," he smiled, and then leaned forward to run a hand across her cheek. "I always do."

"Promise me." She looked deep into his eyes.

"I promise." He nodded.

"I love you."

It spilled from her mouth, but she didn't regret it. She didn't want him to say anything back. But she did want any hesitation that he might have still been holding onto to disappear. Once the truth had come out in the kitchen this afternoon to her Mother, she knew it had to be said. She wanted to accept his passionate, frightening at times love. If that meant throwing herself on the tracks, again, then she would do it. Because all she had ever wanted was the love of the boy right in front of her.

He was stunned into silence. She knew he couldn't say it. Either he wasn't able, or ready. In either case she wasn't going to let the pressure of silence force it out of him. She stood, straightened out her jacket, and looked back down.

"I just wanted you to know. Goodnight."

She turned, hit the door, turned the knob, and fought the urge to look back. With a steadying breath she forced herself through the threshold and down the stairs. Her Mum and Dad were still laughing and kissing in the kitchen, the house dark due to the very late hour, and she closed her door behind her. Leaning up against it she let her breath catch, and her mind supplied the ticking bomb in front of her tearful eyes.

Two Days.

* * *

~*~

_"I wish I had that map." She hissed under her breath. Neville and Luna bumped into the back of her as she stopped at a corner._

_"What map?" Luna whispered, looking behind them for anyone in the hallway. It was one in the morning, so no one should have been in the halls, but you never knew these days._

_"You know," she started, and then stopped as they ran down the hallway as fast as they could to the next alcove. "The one Harry always has, where he can see anyone in the castle at any time."_

_"Oh, that would have been quite useful." Luna nodded, and then checked behind them again._

_"Should be just ahead." Neville whispered, and crouched low toward the ground before taking off toward the staircase. They all flattened themselves against the wall, bathed in shadow and tried to catch their breath. This had been far too easy. Her body was on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop._

_"Luna, password." She nudged her toward the spiral staircase. Luna had been able to get a few Ravenclaw spies to hang out around the staircase and figure out the password for them. At first Ginny had been miffed about Luna and Neville's secret planning behind her back, but now she didn't care. She just wanted to get out of here, with or without the sword._

_"Pure Blood." Luna clearly stated and the staircase appeared before them._

_"Pretty unoriginal if you ask me." Neville quibbled._

_"That's a Slytherin for you." She commented back and they took the stairs. They had all transfigured as best they could, Neville with curly, short, blond hair and blue eyes, Luna with a short mousey brown cut, and she with her finally tamed long black hair. They looked nothing like their former selves, and that was the point. They crested the stairs and held their breath as they entered the office. Snape was asleep at his desk. There were some burning embers in the fireplace, gadgets all over his desk whirling and twirling, a large black cauldron boiling in the corner. All the portraits were sleeping, except for Dumbledore, who she swore winked at her._

_She nodded her head toward the case that held the gleaming Gryffindor sword, and they moved slowly and carefully across the floor. Halfway to the case, Luna stepped on a floorboard and it let out a soft groan. They couldn't have known, but it was too much. Snape's head quickly snapped up from the desk, and ropes flew at them, restraining them without a single word from his mouth._

_"What is this? Who are you?" He popped up from his desk, all the portraits starting to wake up, Dumbledore's blue eyes trained onto them._

_"Don't say anything." She whispered to them both. Better to stay silent and make them force the information out then volunteer it. Snape's eyes focused down to beady half moons and with another swish of his wand she felt her silky black hair bounce back up to her wavy red._

_"I should have know." He gave them a mean smile. "Detention."_

_She took in a quick breath of surprise. She hadn't been expecting that. Usually it was curses or hexes, or being chained to a wall._

_"I believe that Hagrid needs some assistance in the Forbidden Forrest tomorrow afternoon. Waste not, want not." He sneered at them, and with another flick of his wand they went tumbling down the stairs, slamming into the castle walls as they all landed in a heap at the bottom of the stairwell, right next to the statue._

_"What was that supposed to mean?" Neville rubbed his elbow, which was quickly turning purple. She swallowed hard, rubbing her own hands which were raw and bleeding, and quietly said,_

_"We're all pure blood."_

* * *

~*~

She was aware of a constant noise. Like rain, or a bubbling cauldron, or pacing. She squeezed her eyes tight, and listened closer, it was definitely pacing. By the sweat that was still trapped to her body, and the bright awareness of the room she would had said it was about noon. She'd slept in. The pacing continued, unaware of her slowly waking self, and she pulled a pillow over her face, moaning from underneath it,

"Stop it, Harry!"

The footsteps stopped immediately and she sighed under the pillow. It was far too early to be dealing with the complex situation she had created for herself.

"Are you awake?"

"Now I am." She grumbled and pulled the pillow off her face but didn't open her eyes.

"You talk in your sleep."

"And you thrash about according to Ron." She rubbed her eyes and attempted to sit up. Her body promptly refused that and she meekly fell back down onto her bed, her hair falling all over the place.

"What's 'waste not, want not' mean?" She felt him sit down on the bed next to her, his body up against her hip.

"Something Snape said to me." She yawned, and finally cracked open an eye. "Last year." She focused her bleary eye on him and he frowned at her closet.

"What does it mean?"

"Well, armed with my new knowledge of Snape," she sat up and cracked her back. "I believe he was discreetly trying to tell me that he had no intention of harming us. But at the time, we thought it had to do with our pure blood status."

"We?" He turned to look at her, still in the clothes he was wearing yesterday, only now they were wrinkled horribly.

"Did you even go home?" She opened her eyes wider to take him in.

"No. We?" He prompted again.

"The Underground, Harry. Me, Neville, and Luna. We tried to steal the sword of Gryffindor from his office. Why didn't you go home?"

"Wasn't tired. Why would you want to steal the sword?" He quickly skirted around her question. She leaned back against the white iron head board on her bed and crossed her arms. So it was going to be one of _those_ days.

"For you. We thought it could help you out if you ever did come back. But we failed where you succeeded later on. You look tired. Didn't Ron wonder where you were?"

"No he didn't, and neither did Hermione." He rose an eyebrow at her, and she looked away, pretending like she was about to barf.

"Please don't. Just lie to me. Tell me they slept in separate beds." She cringed at the thought. It was far too early for this as well.

"They slept in separate beds." He flatly said, then started laughing.

"It sounded worse as a lie!" She laughed and then yawned again, this time pulling her hair up off her neck in a low slung bun.

"I don't really know what happened. But I can assume." He leaned back against her wall in the space her legs had vacated by sitting up.

"Why didn't you go home?" She set a steady look on her face, but slowly and stealthily her heart was beating faster with the possibilities of what his answer could be.

"Thinking." He took a deep breath and held it.

"About?" She prompted.

"I'm still going, Ginny." It came out fast with his breath.

"I know that." She said slowly. Her heart froze and she bit her lip for a moment, and then looked down at her hands. "Do you think I said I loved you to trap you here?"

"No." He said it so fast she looked up in surprise. He moved across the bed and grabbed her hands into his own. "Not at all."

"Then why would you say that?" She felt the anger start to simmer. Now he was covering his tracks. She ripped her hands away and struggled out of her covers to get away from him. "Why are you here? Really?"

She turned around, her hair falling out of the bun, and with a furious breath fixed her eyes on him. For two steaming breaths he just stared at her, it only fueled her anger further. "Tell me! I am tired of dancing around this, and we are short on time."

"Short on time?" He stood up from the bed, confusion all across his face.

"One day, Harry. Today is burning away as we stand here. We have one more day." She felt her chest attempt to hitch with tears and started putting her hair back up to distract herself, looking away from him for a moment. She saw his shoes first, and was then falling, tumbling, his hands grabbing onto her, his lips landing on her lips. She pushed against him, pushed hard,

"No!"

"What's wrong?" He looked wounded, and reached out a hand toward her hip.

"Say what you came here to say." She backed up against the wall, trying to put space between them.

"I…I…" He froze and hung his head.

"Can't." She quietly finished for him. He continued to look at the floor, she could hear his quick huffs of breath and then he looked up,

"It's a dangerous thing for me to say, Ginny. Bad things happen when I even think it."

"Bullshit."

"What?" He stepped back, away from her, shocked.

"I know why you think you feel this way." She started and then pierced him with a look as he started to open his mouth to retort. "But love is what has made you who you are, Harry. You told me that Dumbledore kept insisting that your ability to love is what set you apart, what kept you alive. Ron and Hermione, my family, everyone is here because you loved them, they are alive because you loved them. I am here because I love you." She moved away from the wall, and clasped her hands across her heart. "I am here." She fiercely implored, begging him with her eyes to see that she understood his reluctance but would accept nothing less from him than the truth. She saw something click behind his eyes and he let out in a low whispered breath,

"And I love you."

"I know." She smiled and whispered back, "was that so hard?"

"No." He rumbled.

They tumbled against the wall, and she kissed him so roughly that she felt her lips swell instantly. Their hands started moving in the familiar pattern their intense passion created. She reached for the bottom of his shirt, raking her hands up his back. He pulled his lips away to move down her neck, and whispered against her heating body,

"I love you." He kissed across her collarbones. "I love you." His nose ran up the opposite side of her neck. "I love you." He whispered into her ear. Her hands abandoned their task, and swiftly fingered through his short, short hair.

Her heart felt like it was going to explode. There was just too much. Too much love, too much emotion, too much passion, too much to contain in such a tiny place. It expanded out into her body, making her terrified and exhilarated all at the same time. She pulled him as close to her as she could.

"I love you, too."

"Say it again." He whispered to her forehead and started to kiss it over and over.

"I love you, Harry."

His lips lingered, and he let out a content breath. He pulled back and fixed her with a gorgeous smile, looking younger then she'd ever seen him look. Like something had lifted off him, taking the years of age he seemed to always hold in his frame away with it. The haircut helped as well.

"I love you, Ginny."

She grabbed him again, and started laughing into his chest. It was absurd that she'd had to convince him that a declaration of love wasn't going to literally kill her, but then again, nothing between her and Harry seemed to fit the normal circumstances of love. Something fluttered into her window and his shoulders dropped.

"Ministry." He sighed and let go, walking over to the bird and fishing a knut out of his pocket to pay the owl. He unrolled the scroll, and frowned. "Bloody hell."

"What is it?" She started moving toward him and he held out the scroll, which promptly burst into flames and landed as ash against her desk. "Oh my. Something serious?"

"I'm afraid so. I have to go." He glared at the pile of ash, and then looked up at her, pressing his lips into a thin white line.

"Go." She waved him off.

"I'll get out of this as soon as I can. We can go get dinner, together." He moved closer and dropped his voice. "Alone."

"That would be fantastic." She smiled. He grabbed her up and landed a soft kiss.

"I'll be back." He assured and pulled out his wand.

"Go!" She laughed, and with a pop he was gone.

* * *

~*~

She stepped out of the fireplace and marched back to the office. The scrap of parchment balled up in her fist. George looked up and smiled, almost like he was expecting her.

"I've been stood up."

"Then I know just the trick." He grinned. With a quick flick the books he had been pouring over all closed and stacked into a neat pile. He grabbed his coat off the hanger, slung an arm around her and started moving toward the front door.

"You knew, didn't you?"

"His best mate is leaving for four months to do the most difficult and dangerous training there is. I know where they went if you want to crash their little man date." George raised his eyebrows in a suggestive way. She shook her head no. Harry was leaving everyone, not just her; she would at least appear to be fair, even though she was thinking mutinous thoughts of Ron. It looked as if his note had been scratched faster then usual. His handwriting was almost unreadable. She'd made out: sorry, kidnapped, Ron, and then another sorry.

"Well, then…" George flicked his wand at the lanterns, locked the door, and turned back to her. "If you don't mind, I'd love to be your date tonight."

"Why didn't I just ask you in the first place?" She gave him a brilliant smile.

"All you ever have to do is ask." He laughed and they went off down the street. Diagon Alley was still alive with charm and noise as the evening drew upon them.

Since the end of the war, wizards and witches everywhere had been rebuilding all that had been lost. New pubs, new shops, new summer events and gatherings were always popping up around the entire country. The long dark years of fear had been lifted, and everyone was in a generous and celebratory mood. This new pub, that George was a regular of, had appeared almost immediately after Lord Voldemort was defeated. It was a local favorite for all the younger generation. Run by two former Hogwarts students that had been in school with Harry, it had been named The Seeker. Even though they had been sixth year Ravenclaws when Harry had arrived, a few calls to Dennis Creevey and some old Daily Prophets had created an almost time capsule. The walls were peppered with clippings, photographs, memorabilia and trinkets from Hogwarts during Harry's years there.

Ginny took a long spin around the crowded pub as George looked for a seat. On almost every wall were framed pictures of Harry from year one all the way to year six. There were the articles from the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the Quibbler, The Prophet, even foreign papers littered the walls like aging wall paper. Ginny took in a quick breath at a picture of Harry, Hermione, Ron, and herself down at the lake. His arm was around her waist, a huge smile across his face, Ron and Hermione on either side of them. She didn't think they realized how rare this picture might be, Harry rarely smiled for pictures. The couple sitting at the table where the picture was looked from her to the picture and back again.

"Ginny Weasley?" They shouted above the mummer of talk and outbursts of laughing. All heads snapped towards her, and she knew that she had turned bright red. George looked up as well, grabbed a mug from the bar and shouted,

"To Ginny Weasley!"

"Ginny Weasley!" The crowd cheered and everyone tipped back a drink and clashed their mugs in a large burst of excitement. Someone hit the jukebox in the corner and a Weird Sister's song rang throughout the pub. People started singing along and Ginny couldn't help but laugh and walk toward George. He handed her a mug and grinned.

"What is this place?" She took a small sip. George went to start into it when a highly intoxicated person next to him leaned in,

"Why this is The Seeker. A bar dedicated to any and everything Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter!" The crowd screamed again and took another drink from their mugs. Ginny let out a laugh and looked at George.

"Why did you bring me here?" She scanned the place for any familiar faces that might blackmail her.

"We're treated like royalty here." As if on cue the bartender put down an enormous basket of fish and chips.

"Any friend of Harry Potter's is a friend of ours! Eat up, let me know if you want anything else." He gave Ginny the once over and then walked away. Ginny put a hand to her mouth to cover the surprise at the bartender's audacity.

"Everyone knows you're together Ginny. It's common knowledge." George stuffed a few chips into his mouth.

"Is it now? That's news to me. Guess I should have been picking up a paper more often." She took another long drink.

"Since you two have been holed up at the Burrow there hasn't been much they can cover. But ever since the Quidditch game you better believe that people will be following your every step now." George laughed and finished his drink. The bartender slid another down the bar to him, not missing a beat.

"Like either of us ever wanted that." She picked at a piece of fish and looked up at George, his eyes already starting to get a little glassy from whatever was in his mug.

"Comes with the territory, Gin." He took a long slug from the mug. They stayed quiet for a long time, just shoving fish and chips into their mouths but not tasting the food. Ginny kept taking long swallows of the concoction that George had ordered her. It wasn't long before she felt the flush from the alcohol creep into her cheeks.

"To Harry Potter!" Someone screamed out in the quieting bar and another round was passed out to everyone in the place. Ginny took it without even asking and gulped it down. George did the same and they took a long look at each other.

"Let's go," he grabbed his coat and placed a few Galleons down on the bar. "See ya John."

"To George and Ginny Weasley!" John shouted out, and the whole bar gave a large shout and patted George on the back as they exited the pub into the still bustling street. George gave a long sigh and stretched his arms above his head for a moment.

"So what's next on our date? I'm not that partial to ice cream, but I'll give in if that's what you want." He linked his arm back up with hers' as they strode down the street. George was giving little nods to everyone that called out to him. But Ginny still couldn't shake the sadness that had crept into her heart. The stakes seemed so much higher now. Maybe she didn't give him enough credit, but he should have been able to enjoy a destiny completed. Not run back into the fray of it all. One more day. George looked down at her for a moment, wrapped his arm around her and said,

"He'll be fine, Ginny. Don't worry." He gave her a happy smile and opened the door to the ice cream parlor. Ginny smiled back at him and stood in line, but the panic had settled back into her heart.

* * *

~*~

Ice cream had proved to be another awkward moment for her. The girl at the register dropped her chocolate cone all over the counter upon laying eyes on her. George let out the largest laugh, and the rest of the patrons, who had before that been too engrossed in ice cream to care, looked up and started whispering and pointing. She had attempted to pay for their cones, George still laughing too hard to help, but the girl waved them off, looking breathy and flustered.

"That," George sucked in a large breath. "Was the funniest thing I've seen all week." He wiped at his eyes and tossed the rest of the cone into the trash.

"You should have seen the girl at the market the other day." She grumbled and finished off her cone.

"It was like you could see that poor girls thoughts." George wound them back toward the store, ignoring the looks they were both getting. "Not that I wanted to know them, but still."

"Please just get me back inside before some girl squeals at the sight of me." She started moving faster.

"They only squeal at the sight of Harry." George laughed, and then fished around for his keys. People were passing by, dipping their head to George, and then taking a second look at her.

"Faster." She seethed. George fumbled with his keys again and let out a laugh.

"Do come in." He swung open the door and she bee-lined inside, stopping only when she reached the front counter. "Since your embarrassment at being a celebrity has forced us into hiding, I'm putting you to work."

"I'm not a celebrity." She snapped. George started flicking lanterns on with his wand, and then summoned several boxes that needed to be restocked.

"Oh, yes you are." He shoved the first box into her hand and then reached around the back of the counter and pulled out a bottle of Fire Whiskey.

"I'm as much a celebrity as you are a drunk." She shoved the bottle away from his hands.

"Then you must be a very big celebrity." He smiled and conjured two shot glasses. He quickly poured them and handed one over. She felt her eyebrows rise into her hairline, but hesitantly took the shot. "You should never drink alone."

"To my drunk brother." She raised the shot.

"To my famous sister." He raised his as well, and they clinked them before she threw it back. The alcohol burned against the back of her throat. She thought, for a second, that if she were to open her mouth fire would come shooting out. It quickly ran down to her stomach and sloshed around with the little food and the few drinks she'd already had. George smiled at her and pushed the items on the counter aside so she could sit on the counter.

"Should I start working now?" She twirled the box of Sugar Quills between her hands.

"Nah," he reached over and poured them another round of shots.

"George. Mum will be livid." She stared at the shot in his hand.

"Ginny, don't act like you've never been drunk before." He shoved the shot at her.

"Just the one time." She begrudgingly took the shot glass from him.

"Was that the one time last year when Mum and Dad kidnapped you from school, or the one time in your fourth year?" He narrowed his eyebrows at her and grinned.

"How did you know about that?" She kept herself guarded. It had been Dennis Creevey's idea. He'd managed to nick a bottle of Fire Whiskey, and she'd walked in at the wrong time. Weasley sense of pride took over after that.

"I have spies everywhere." He tried to sound mysterious and clinked her glass. She took a breath and then slugged back the shot.

"God this is awful!" She grabbed at her flaming throat and set the glass down on the counter, turning so that she could sit with her legs crossed on it.

"I agree. Quite horrible. But it's all I have. We'll have to make do." He poured another shot. She crossed her arms, refusing to be bullied into sprint drinking.

"So how many times has Ron been drunk?"

"Not counting this last summer?" He picked up the shot and neatly took it.

"Why not counting?"

"Lost track of him for a couple of months there. You might remember, Dark Lord on the loose, death threats flying around and the such." He poured himself another.

"Oh yeah, that." She mockingly replied and threw back her shot.

"Never." He refilled her glass.

"No!" She reached across the short distance and pushed his shoulder. "There's no way I've had more then Ron."

"You're a bad, bad girl Ginny Weasley." He laughed. "I think it had more to do with the constant cloud of death that followed him around then lack of effort. Can't be fighting off Dementor's when you're tossed." He took the shot and then put the bottle under the counter. She finished hers off as well and the shot glasses disappeared.

"Very true." She grimaced as she answered. Her throat was on fire, her body was swimming, and her head was spinning.

"So tell me." George pulled himself up onto the counter, and crossed his legs. "Is it true that you're carrying Harry's love child and that's why you've been out of the spotlight for so long?"

"What?" She screamed out, and then slapped her hands over her face.

"I'll take it by your reaction that it's a no." He smiled.

"Of course it's a no!"

"Don't be offended. I'm just repeating the lies being thrown around out there." He grabbed one of the trick quills from the baskets on the counter and started flipping it between his fingers.

"Oh, Merlin. What else is being said?" She moaned, and then laughed for no reason, the alcohol taking effect.

"I've heard love child, secret marriage, and love triangle." He laughed at the last one.

"With who?" She grabbed a quill herself and watched it try to squirm its way out of her hand.

"Hermione, of course." He laughed. She fell into a fit of giggles, and clenched onto her stomach. "I do seem to have the advantage when it comes to the firestorm gossip that is created."

"Well, you would. I wouldn't be surprised if some Witch Weekly reporter had disguised herself and was hiding out amongst the students every day." Her words were starting to slur. George seemed completely sober.

"Between this horrific gossip, and how I'm arming all the students this year, I'm sure McGonagall is going to loose all her hair by the end of term." He placed the quill back into the bucket and pulled out a sock from his jacket.

"What does it do?" She glanced wearily at it. Unattended and unassuming household items were always a dead give a way growing up that the twins had somehow altered it.

"For only 8 Gallons this contraption right here can hold all your Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes items without detection. Looking like an ordinary sock, teacher's and parents will just assume that it harmless, but little do they know the chaos you can create with it. Waterproof, fireproof, and armed with a user specific locator charm, you should never be with out your…" He trailed off.

"Your what?" She clapped, excited. She looked down at her hands for a moment and everything gave a delightful spin. Very drunk, she was now very drunk.

"That's just it. We haven't thought of a name yet." He tucked it back into his jacket and gave her a sad smile. "Fred was always better with the names."

"Oh, George," she fumbled to her knees and pulled him into a hug. "You'll think of something. I will too."

"You better. We have a week left until all these little buggers go back to school." He grabbed onto her waist to steady her, and she sat back down, her legs on either side of the counter. "On a scale from one to drunk, how are you?"

"What? Drunk." She laughed, and fell back against the register, knocking her head in the process. "Ouch!"

"Stop hitting your head, Ginny!" He grabbed the front of her jacket and pulled her back upright. Everything spun and she laughed out loud.

"Good thing it's tough!"

"Are you going to be okay?" He asked, running a hand over the side of her head that had hit the register.

"My boyfriend is abandoning me to go get himself killed. I'm going back to the one place I keep having flashbacks about, and everyone keeps trying to give me birth control. I'd take a concussion if it would make any of that easier." She laughed. Being drunk had somehow made all her problems seem light and easy, funny almost.

"Who's giving you birth control?" George nearly shouted.

"Mum. And Fleur. She actually made me take it in front of her. I'm not that much younger than her you know." She waggled a finger at George, but his face set and he said in a low tone,

"I'll break his arms."

"Nothing's happened. I guess everyone just believes the rumors." She snorted and then started fishing around for the whiskey again. "We should keep drinking, this is fun."

"Still. If he…" George started and the fireplace exploded with green flame, Harry and Ron stumbling out of it.

"He's here!" She shouted into the empty store, and they both turned, startled to see them there. She attempted to move her leg over to the proper side, but it just made her loose her balance. George shot out a hand and straightened her back up.

"Ginny what's wrong?" Harry broke from his initial shock and moved quickly toward her.

"Careful Harry." She warned. "George is going to break your arms."

"What? Why?" He asked quickly asked, taking a step backward, and reaching for his wand.

"She's drunk. Pay no mind." George put a rough arm around her. "Don't make me shut you up."

"Why's she drunk, George?" Ron sounded accusatory and started moving toward the counter.

"Oh!" She laughed, the alcohol burning fast through her body now. She felt bold and daring, almost like she could do anything. "The usual when it comes to this family. Giving someone shots until their guard is down so he can fish for gossip. He's defending my honor."

"It needs defending?" Ron quickly spun around and looked at Harry. Who's hands shot up in front of himself, palms out.

"Nothing's happened!"

She jumped off the counter, landing shakily, but quickly righting herself and moved between Ron and Harry. She stuck out a hand, and slowly said,

"He's been a saint. Despite all my efforts and mixed signals."

"Oh Merlin." Ron cringed and turned away.

"Over share, Ginny." George laughed from the counter.

"Well, who's going to defend Harry's honor if not me?" She asked, and Ron started laughing.

"Men don't need their honor defended." George reached back around the counter and pulled out the bottle again. "You've actually done him a disservice."

"If it stops arm breaking I didn't. He needs his arms." It sounded stupid coming out of her mouth, but she'd lost all control at this point. Everyone laughed at her, and then Harry closed the gap and wrapped her up in his arms.

"Thanks for the protection." He smiled.

"Get a room!" George yelled out, and with a flick of his wand four shot glasses appeared again on the counter. "You two are far too sober for a night out."

"It wasn't about drinking." Ron grumbled and moved toward the counter. Ginny wiggled out of Harry's arms and skipped toward the counter.

"What are we drinking to?" She grabbed the shot, her finger slipping into the liquid. She stuck her finger in her mouth and sucked it off, and then looked back up at all the boys. George was shaking his head, Ron was focusing on his shot, and Harry was looking anywhere but at her.

"I was actually thinking of a drinking game." George grabbed the shot out of her hand and set it back down on the counter.

"Yes!"

"No!"

She said, and the boys said at the same time. George looked bemused and set the bottle behind himself. He fished around in his pocket, and pulled out a Galleon.

"It's called Galleon's. You bounce the coin into the shot, and if you make it you get to decide who drinks it." George set up the shots right next to each other, making a neat little square of fire whiskey. He passed the coin to Ron and jumped off the counter.

"I don't know George." Ron gave a long look at the shots.

"What are you, chicken?" She reached over and grabbed the coin out of his hand. She bounced it off the counter and it plunked directly into a shot. "Harry."

"She's a shark!" Ron laughed.

"Must perform better drunk." George added. She grabbed a shot and spun around to hand it to him.

"Oh, no thank you." He smiled, politely.

"No matter how the world may slight you,

By the end of every day.

Neither friend, nor drink, nor neighbor,

Do you ever turn away." She recited from memory and quickly tossed back the shot.

"Cheers to that!" George laughed and took one himself. Ron also tossed his back.

"Am I missing something?" Harry looked bewildered.

"Weasley family motto." She choked, and pounded on her chest where the shot caught fire.

"More like Weasley family toast." George held out the shot. "Are you the favorite son or not?"

"It's just one drink, Harry." Ron gave him a playful shove.

"Just one." He nodded and moved toward the counter quickly tossing the shot back and setting the shot glass back down gently on the bar. Then he spit out the Gallon into his hand.

"Your turn now, Harry." George grinned and gestured widely to the counter. The world started spinning slightly around the edges as she waited for him to take his turn. Four shots and how many drinks had she had now? Or was it five? Did she even eat dinner? The spinning intensified and she let out a hard breath. The coin bounced off the counter and splashed into a shot.

"Ron." Harry held it out, and Ron tipped it back, spitting out the coin, and then bouncing it himself. It glanced off the side of the shot and right into George's hands.

"OH! That's a shot!" George held up the whiskey.

"You made that rule up!" Ron shouted. They continued to bicker, Harry laughing intermitted at them, and she felt a sudden, powerful urge to close her eyes. Just for a minute. Her vision was already starting to blur. If she could just close her eyes, and they slid shut.

"Harry!" Ron yelled out, and she felt strong hands grab her before the darkness closed in.

* * *

~*~

"I can just see the Howler forming in her head. Whiskey? Pubs? Drinking Games? I'll have your hide for this George Weasley. You will rue the day you…"

"Rue the day?" George interjected with a bark of laughter.

"Rue the day you liquored up your sister. I have half a mind to turn you into a garden knomb and place you atop the Christmas tree this year."

"Empty threat. It's be more like. I have half a mind to bewitch your trousers to belt out love songs whenever a man walks by." George finished, still laughing.

"Good one." Ron laughed as well, and she heard the shot glasses hit the counter again. They seemed slightly far away, and as the darkness rose she realized she was on the floor, but her head wasn't. She opened her eyes and looked to her left and right and saw dark blue jeans.

"Rue the day!" Harry laughed, and she felt his legs shake with it. So he was sitting on the floor, and her head was in his lap, and she had passed out, and no one was upset about this? They must all be drunk.

"Rue the day!" George and Ron shouted and took another shot.

"She lives!" George yelled and jumped down from the counter. The fireplace in the store erupted into life again and out strode Hermione, in pajama pants and a light sweatshirt.

"Hermione!" All three belted out.

"What seems to be the problem? Because the building isn't burning down." She trained her eyes onto Ron.

"Not yet, love!" Ron gave her a sloppy smile and George let out a large whistle.

"Ugh!" She turned from him and then looked at the floor. "What's wrong with you two?"

"I believe the word is drunk." Harry slurred above her and she looked up into his face for a moment.

"Harry!" Hermione said in a scandalized tone.

"Don't look at me. She's the one who passed out!" He looked down at her and smiled. "Hi, love."

"Hey there, champ." She groaned and sat up, her shoulder's cramping from where his sneakers had dug into her. Her brain swam and with a sinking despair she realized that she was still very drunk. "How long was I out for?"

"Long enough for us to learn about Harry's low tolerance to booze!" George laughed and clinked glasses with Ron again.

Hermione's darkened and with a tiny twist to her mouth and a flick of her wand the shot glasses went flying from Ron and George's hands and crashed against the wall, breaking into a thousand pieces.

"Oh! Come now!" George pouted.

"Why, 'Mione? You ruin all our fun." Ron whined. Then turned to George and said in a voice he thought was a whisper. "She's quite the killjoy. We should have just owled Katie."

"I heard that." Hermione spat. Harry started laughing uncontrollably, and she felt her stomach heave.

"Here it comes! Hope you didn't like those shoes Harry!" Ron yelled out. She took a deep breath, to try and hold back her vomit. When she froze as Hermione turned her murderous glare toward her and flick her wand, wordlessly, again.

The spell hit her so hard she stumbled back into a display, knocking it to the ground, but the heaving stopped, and she felt much more sober. Then Hermione turned to the still giggling Harry and hit him as well.

He abruptly stopped and then grabbed his head. Ron and George started clapping, George's hand wrapped around the almost empty bottle of Fire Whiskey, and he took a final slug, passing it along to Ron who finished off the bottle.

"Alright. My turn." Ron jumped off the counter and braced himself.

"Oh no." Hermione gave him a wicked smile. "You need to learn your lesson."

"Why didn't they need to learn it?" He stumbled toward her, and Hermione pushed him back against the counter.

"Because you probably bullied Harry into drinking. And Ginny would get into too much trouble." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.

"No one bullies Harry into anything." Ron argued, waving his hand at her in a sloppy sort of way.

"Well then, it's punishment for making Pig peck at my face until I woke up. It's two in the morning, Ron!" She finished with a yell.

"Indeed." George said loudly, and then stumbled forward to pull Ron and Hermione into his long arms. "We all need some sleep so we can do this again tomorrow."

"What?" It echoed off the walls, due to the four of them saying it at the same time.

"It's Harry's last day here as a boy. He's going off to Auror school to become a man." George started.

"I would hardly think _Harry_ could be considered…" She interjected but George cut over her.

"It's customary to have a drink before someone goes off on a difficult task such as this. And since we got that boring dinner out of the way, now it's time to really celebrate! Bill said he'd pick up the tab." George finished with a wicked smile.

"I think one drunken day of celebration is enough." Hermione struggled to get out from under his arm.

"Oh, my dear, dear, sister in law." George pulled Hermione close against him, giving her a wink. Ron turned bright red, and she and Harry started laughing. "You won't have a choice."

"How are you going to manage that?" Hermione countered.

"I have my ways." He smirked at her. "Now off you go. I need my beauty sleep. Think you three can fit in there at the same time?" He looked each at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"What makes you think I'm going back home with these drunks?" Hermione blushed, but appeared angry.

"Because you said home." George laughed, and then started up the stairs to the apartment above the shop. "You better be going back to the Burrow, Ginny!" He warned.

"Of course, Mum!" She yelled back up to him. He gave her a dismissive wave and disappeared up the stairs. She turned to the three and gave them a smirk. "So am I going first or are you three?"

"Not you too." Hermione moaned. Then she quickly spun on the spot and disapparated with a pop.

"Think we're going to have to walk, Harry. I'm far too drunk to Floo. We'll be all elbows and soot." Ron slung an arm over his shoulder and started moving toward the front door. "Night, Gin!" He shouted out to her.

Harry glanced over his shoulder, still struggling to keep Ron and himself upright, and smiled.

"Goodnight, Ginny."

"See you tomorrow." She smiled, and threw a handful of Floo into the fireplace.

* * *

~*~

Author's Note:

Thirteen seems to be my lucky number! Courtney, as always, thanks for being the Obi-One to my Anakin! Friendsofhagrid, you are a rockstar! Thanks so much for your help.


	14. Chapter 14

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 14~

_And Anna begins to change my mind_

_And every time she sneezes I believe it's love_

_And oh Lord_

_I'm not ready for this sort of thing_

_Anna Begins by Counting Crows_

* * *

~*~

There was no amount of hot water in the world that could get the alcohol out of her. Despite the spell Hermione jack hammered into her chest, and the pepper-up potion that she'd snuck before passing back out, this morning had been a bleak and painful experience. It was that horrible moment between still slightly drunk, but mostly hung over. Her mouth was a giant cotton ball; her shoulder's ached from where she had fallen asleep on Harry's shoes, and her head pounded with such intensity she thought about taking her pain medication and passing out again. But now she only had hours.

She tipped her head back in the steady stream of water, letting it run down her hair, hoping it was getting the stench of whiskey off her.

"Ginny! You've been in there for an hour!" Her Mother yelled through the door and banged on it a couple times. Her brain pulsed, and she groaned to herself,

"I'm never drinking again."

"You have ten minutes and then I'm going to come in there." Her Mum warned and pounded on the door again.

"Alright!" She yelled, and turned the water off. She waited until she heard her leave, and then made quick work of getting dressed and blowing out her hair. Fumbling down the stairs she found an entire table of food waiting and her stomach twisted a warning for her.

"You look lovely, dear." Her Mum smiled and poured a cup of tea for herself. She had picked the clothes out carefully this morning. A striking dark blue halter top, that had to be altered, fell down snuggly against her body to the light blue jeans, which she had altered to be just the tiniest bit tighter, and funky bejeweled sandals that Fleur had bought for her as a gift last year. It showcased the fact that she didn't even have a hint of a tan, but it also made her hair look amazing. Pretty good selections for being hung-over.

"Thanks." She smiled and grabbed the tea first. Debating if toast or bacon was the right choice.

"Did you have any plans today?" Her Mum ruffled the paper around, still reading it, and not paying attention to her.

"I was going to spend the day with Harry." She looked at her Mum, engrossed in the paper. "Because he's leaving." She nodded at her. "Tomorrow." She nodded again. "And I'm carrying his love child."

"That's nice dear." She looked up and blinked for a moment, smiled, and then looked back down.

"Anything I need to know?" Ginny sighed. She had been hoping for a tiny reaction.

"Just the usual. Death Eater's on the loose. Malfoy trial has begun. Quidditch game next week." Her Mum turned the page.

"Well then," she grabbed a handful of toast, finished off her tea, and stood up from the table. "I'm off to bang a few pots around Ron's head."

"Why would you do that?" Her Mum looked up startled.

"Too much sauce." She sadly said, and mimed drinking a bottle of alcohol. Then shook her head disapprovingly.

"George is such a bad influence on him. I need to have a talk to that boy." Her Mum pursed her lips and then turned back to the paper. "Have a wonderful day, dear."

"Will do." She called from the living room, and with her free hand tossed some Floo in. "3 Tower Street."

She clenched her toast in her hand as she shot through the space, and then landed with graceful hop into the dining room. Hermione looked up from the paper for a moment and smiled, and then looked back down at her toast.

"Don't worry, I brought my own." She held up the sooty toast, and then waved her wand over herself and her breakfast, cleaning everything off. Shoving one piece into her mouth she moved into the kitchen and looked around in their sparsely stocked cabinets for a reasonably sized pot. There was one of three, and one of two wooden spoons. With a quick grin at Hermione she skipped off to Ron's room. Passing across the threshold was like walking into a nightmare.

In only a day Ron had managed to thrash the room. Clothing was strewn about haphazardly, and Pig's cage was badly in need of cleaning. The windows were shut, a heavy orange curtain blocking out any sunlight or air, yet, he still had all the lights on in his room. And then there was the smell. Growing up with brother's she was accustomed to what she had labeled 'boy smell', a mix of sweat, body order, dirty clothes, and something unique to each mischievous deed. But Ron's room seemed to be caked in it, with an almost potpourri mix of rotting whiskey. She actually gagged, dropped her toast, left it for dead, and started banging the pot as loud as she could.

"Wake up Ron!" She banged it again, and he shot up out of his bed, wand in hand, eyes wide open.

"Bugger off you, slimy, bloody useless….Ginny?" He stopped and his eyes focused on her. She paused, mid bang, and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Morning, drunkard." She let the pot and spoon rest at her side, as Ron ran his hands over his face and then laid back down.

"For a moment there you were in danger. I was having the craziest dream. And I thought you were Malfoy." He laughed, shook his head and then stood up, and abruptly sat back down.

"Hung-over?"

"Unfortunately." He moaned, and then jumped up from the bed and raced for the door. The bathroom door fired shut and she gently stepped back out of the room before the stench could get all over her. Hermione was frowning at the bathroom.

"Did you bring anything for him?" She asked biting her lip, feeling sorry for Hermione, but wanting to laugh and taunt her brother. Then he threw up, and they both quickly moved to the living room.

"Why would he do this to himself? George is obviously a drunk; he could drink anyone under the table. Yet, Ron felt like he needs to go shot for shot with him?" Hermione fell down onto the love seat, against the windows, and Ginny tucked her legs under herself and leaned against the arm rest of the other couch, her back to the boy's room's now, as well as the disaster happening in the bathroom.

"Sibling rivalry. We're constantly trying to one up each other, and annoy each other." She kicked her shoes onto the floor, and slid down the couch, her hair resting off the arm like a blanket. "It's just our nature." She looked up at the ceiling, looking for any cracks or breaks in the painted white.

The clock chimed away ten times in the corner, Ron flushed the toilet, and she heard a set of footprints move toward the living room.

"You better take a shower before you come anywhere near us." She called out over the couch. She felt someone tug her hair, and leaned her head back to see Harry smiling down at her.

"Already have."

"Good." She smiled and sat up, her hair running through his fingers as she did. "So what's on the agenda today?"

"Nothing." He sat down next to her.

"Until George unleashes his evil plan." Hermione darkly warned from the corner. She felt her brain sort through fuzzy memories of last night until landing on his comment.

"Right, that. I'm thinking Imperious curse." She kicked her feet up onto the coffee table.

"No, because that would leave Harry off the hook." Hermione pursed her lips, deep in though. Ginny let out a laugh that Hermione had even considered it, then looked over at Harry,

"Really?" He nodded a yes.

"I'm pretty sure he's just going to guilt us each into it." Harry added. The bathroom door swung open and Ron stumbled out. He hung onto the doorjamb and took a shuddering breath before saying,

"Portkey."

"No way, that takes far too much time to set up." Hermione shot him down. Ron opened his mouth to retort, but then quickly swung back into the bathroom and slammed the door.

"Oh for heaven's sake." Hermione grumbled and stood up grabbing a vile out of her pocket. "Ron let me in." Ginny turned around and leaned against the back of the couch to watch the exchange.

"Go away." He moaned from behind the door.

"You've suffered long enough. Just let me help." Hermione called back, tapping her foot impatiently. Slowly the door cracked open and Hermione stepped inside.

"Oh no!" Hermione cried, and then the toilet flushed again.

"Gross!" Ginny laughed her body vibrating against the back of the couch as she did, and then felt Harry's hand grab the loose hanging ties from her halter and play with them. "Trying to undress me?"

"No." He answered, but kept playing with the dark blue fabric nonetheless.

"You don't have a single plan for you last day of freedom?" She twisted to look at him, with her knees still on the couch. His hand let go of the ties and ran across her hip as she turned, her stomach did a delightful flop.

"Just you." He said in a low voice, and then shoved his fingers through the loops on her pants, and pulled her down into his lap. "Meaning, of course, whatever you wanted to do." He amended, as his hands roamed across her waist.

"Hum, what could I possibly want to do today?" She scrunched her mouth into a thinking sort of smile. Then something thumped in the bathroom and Hermione let out in a screech,

"Oh God. There's just so much! How did this all come from you?"

"Uh oh." Harry leaned back on the couch, dipping his head backward to try and look into the hallway.

"Stop! Stop moving!" Hermione ordered and then made a gagging sound, quickly followed by, "Harry!"

"Sure you're brave enough for that?" She laughed and moved off his lap.

"Isn't their some kind of Weasley motto about family sticking together?" He gave a cautious glance at the closed bathroom door.

"Ugh." Ron moaned.

"Yes, but vomit voids the contract." She kept a serious face; he put his hands together in a pleading motion. "Only for you."

"I'll owe you." He stood up. She slipped her sandals back on.

"Speaking of which, my hands are still crippled from having to put together your furniture." She walked around the opposite side of the couch from him, meeting back up in the hallway before the door.

"I'll owe you big."

"I was thinking something of the flying variety." She gave him a sly smile. And then quickly remembered her manners and added, "Kidding."

"I'll see what I can do." He put his hand on the knob and she took a deep breath.

"Alright, Hermione. Out of the way. Let professionals handle this." She commanded and Harry threw open the door. Ron was still clutching the toilet bowl like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to Earth. His long legs wrapped around it in an awkward position on the floor. Hermione was hanging over the bathroom sick, green about the gills, feebly attempting to send what appeared to be another scouring charm toward Ron as she dry heaved. Hermione had a right to be so ill.

It was everywhere. Inside the tub, splashed along the side, on the floor, and patches of it still on the toilet bowl. Ron's arm, wand in hand, hung limply at his side, as if he had attempted to clean it up but had given up hope.

"Merlin's beard! How did this happen?" Ginny put a hand over her own face and then shot a spell at the window to open it wider. Next was the air freshener spell her Mum had taught them all when the flu would rip through their family every couple of years. Hermione dry heaved into the sink again and then took a steadying breath. Everyone lowered their hands, and Ginny looked at Harry and Hermione both putting on a brave face for Ron, but with slightly horrified eyes. She knew what she had to do and barked out the first order,

"Harry, go get him a change of clothes and a new towel. Hermione I need you to find or make or buy some pepper up potion, some toast, and a shot of vodka." She shook her head as Ron gave her a bleary look of amazement.

"Thank you." He whispered and then let his head fall back down onto the toilet seat.

"I have the potion I made him right here. But he's throwing up so much I don't think he'll keep it down." Hermione pulled out the blue vile from her pocket. "Why the vodka?" She asked quietly.

"Helps him get over the hang over faster. Detox and all that. Learned it from Bill when he used to drag Charlie home from the pubs." She pulled out her wand and looked at the two of them, still frozen in horror in the bathroom as Ron groaned and threw up again. "Well hop to it, or do I have to do everything? I gave you both the easy jobs."

The shook themselves out of the stupor and quickly left the bathroom. This was not what she wanted to be doing on her final few hours with Harry.

"You will owe me, Ron. You will owe me greatly for this."

"Anything Ginny. Anything." He moaned into the toilet bowl.

"Scourgify." She commanded to the tub and the vomit started to lift and then disappear into the tub. "Wingardium Leviosa." She aimed her wand at Ron, and he slowly lifted from the ground.

"Oh no." He moaned, still holding onto the toilet as his legs started levitating.

"Let go you twit." She growled, still concentrating. He finally released his death grip and she dropped him into the now clean bathtub. With another cleaning spell at the toilet she walked across the now spotless bathroom and turned the water on her brother.

"Agh! It's so cold." He screamed out in his hung-over stupor.

"You did this to yourself!" She yelled back. "Now take off your clothes."

"But why?" He cried, curling up into a defensive ball, the water pounding on his face.

"Ron." She warned and he started with his pants. She looked off to the side until he was down to his boxers. "I'm going to close this curtain, and you are going to take those off as well, and then I'm going to banish these never to be seen again."

"But I liked that shirt." He moaned, still lying on the bottom of the tub.

"You should have thought about that before you got all hacked off with George last night. Perhaps you should wear clothes you don't like when you intend to get tossed." She ripped the curtain closed and heard him struggling around in the tub. She hit the air with another air freshening charm, and Harry came in and sat on the sink counter, holding the towel and clothes.

"Alright Ron?" He tentatively asked.

"I don't think I'll ever be normal again." He moaned.

"Done?" She pushed against the curtain.

"Yes."

Making sure all her eyes could see were legs she banished the rest of the clothes and then turned to Harry.

"My work here is done. Please make sure he doesn't drown."

Harry started clapping and she made a little curtsey, and then laughed. He reached out and pulled her between his legs, her hips hitting against the counter.

"I promise I will never get this drunk."

"Good. I must admit, I felt bad. Hermione did refuse to charm him last night." She put her hands on either side of him, and smiled.

"It did help a lot. Even though my chest hurts this morning." He rubbed it absently.

"That was from the Quaffle." Ron sputtered, still sounding like he was lying down in the tub.

"What?" They both said at the same time and looked at the curtain.

"Of course you don't remember." He sighed, like retelling the tail would take too much effort. "George, you, and I started playing Quidditch in the store on toy brooms, while Ginny was passed out. You took a Quaffle to the chest, really hard, fell onto a display, and then started laughing uncontrollably for a few minutes. You stayed on the floor after that, and pulled Ginny into your lap."

"A Quaffle?" He rubbed his chest again. "How could I have forgotten all that?"

"Because apparently you're a blackout drunk." Ron finished with a huff and then went silent in the tub again.

"Well, that explains the bruising." She brought a hand up to her shoulder and ran it over the knots that would not disappear. "How long was I out for?"

"At least twenty minutes before we started playing, and then you slept on his shoes for about an hour." Ron sloshed around inside the tub, sounding better by the minute.

"Sorry. It seemed like a good idea at the time." Harry frowned, and then his hands ran over her shoulders, feeling the knots running across them. "Wow."

"Yeah, shoes don't make great pillows." She winced as his fingers started working across them, slowly but firmly.

"I'll try to remember that." He mumbled, focusing on the knots in her shoulders now.

"Okay. Toast, pepper up, water, and vodka." Hermione backed into the bathroom holding a tray.

"We'll leave you to it now." Harry jumped off the counter.

"Nothing you haven't seen before." She added, and quickly darted out of the room to a stereo admonishment of,

"Ginny!"

Harry grabbed her hand and quickly pulled her into his room as Hermione shut the door again. It was breezy and bright, his bed had been fixed, or charmed, she wasn't sure, but it was back in proper order. Then she saw, in the corner, his backpack, bulging a bit because it was stuffed full. A flash a panic flooded through her and she looked at the alarm clock by his bed, nearly eleven.

His hands started working on her shoulders again, the slight pressure relieving some of the aching. She let her head hang, her chin hitting her chest as his hands started to heat up more then just her muscles. She kept waiting, and waiting, it would only be a matter of time before he had to stop, either to kiss her or because his hands got tired, but he continued to turn her shoulder muscles into jelly.

"How did you learn how to do this?" She groaned as he worked out a particularly painful knot.

"Didn't learn, just kind of rubbing where it looks like it hurts." He quietly said, concentrating.

"Well, add it to your long list of skills." She sighed as the knot slowly unfolded.

"I did it to you. Figured I'd fix it." His thumb ran across her left shoulder looking for any more bumps. It caused a rush of goosebumps to erupt across her skin. "Are you cold?"

"No." She lowly said, and his hands froze for a second. Instantly missing the pain relief, but hoping he was catching her hint she held her breath.

"Oh," he half laughed, and then she felt his lips start from her right shoulder, his arms wrapping her closer the further along he moved. When he made it to her left shoulder she leaned up against him, and let out a long breath.

"No plans at all, hu?"

"Was I supposed to make some?"

She turned around in his arms and looked up. No, he wasn't supposed to make any. She was supposed to make them for him. But all she could think of was making sure he was always within eyesight and constantly touching her, that's as far as her planning got.

"Nope. But it's going to be a very boring last day."

"I'm alright with boring." He laughed. "I've had enough of everything else to actually want boring."

"If you say so." She shrugged and dug her toes into the hardwood floors to reach up and kiss him. Their lips touched for a brief moment and then Ron and Hermione came stumbling out of the bathroom. They turned to all look at each other, and Harry shut the door.

"I lied. I do have plans." His voice rumbled in his chest, and her stomach did a flip of excitement.

"Did you lie, or were you just trying to throw me? I'll admit, having to take care of my hung-over brother lead me off the scent." She dipped back against his arms, giving him a smile, and then he quickly pulled her back up and let go.

"That wasn't part of the plan." He grabbed a jacket from his closet, and then tossed another one at her. "Unless you wanted to stay and take care of him."

"Merlin, no! What kind of blasphemy did I hear come out of your mouth just now?" She laughed and shrugged into the jacket. It was simple enough, black, hooded, silver zipper. Not any of the flash and bang Wizarding clothing seemed to have.

"Good. Ready?" He swung the door open and held out his hand. For a moment she hesitated. Maybe leftover nerves from the war, maybe her subconscious telling her that sometimes when Harry lied about a plan things went horribly and quickly wrong, maybe the thought of leaving his room and what could have happened there, all crossed her mind, but she grabbed it and was led out.

"Where are you two going?" Hermione gave them the most pathetic look, as she ran her hand over Ron's head in her lap.

"Plans." Harry smiled at Hermione and continued to tug her across the living room toward the front door.

"Sorry." Barely made it out of her mouth to a dejected looking Hermione as she was pulled around the corner and they went bounding down the stairs. "So why the jackets?"

"You'll see." He smiled and opened the front door to the bustling street in front of them. A few people tripped over themselves when they saw Harry, but before anyone could take a second look he had grabbed her arm and they were gone, whirling through space before landing in a dim, wet, and considerably unsightly alley.

"Um, Harry, you know I'm always up for an adventure but…"

She moved to slightly higher ground, out of the gutter, praying her sandaled feet hadn't made contact with whatever was lurking there. Harry laughed, grabbed her hand again and started pulling them down the alley, the bustle and noise of the upcoming street starting to grow.

"I had to Apparate us somewhere we wouldn't be seen. No one's going to know us here." They broke into the almost blinding sunlight; he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her from the storefronts to look down the street.

"Oh my," it came out in a rushing whoosh from her lungs. Bright, sparkling, and vast, deep blue and cloud white ocean spread out as far as her eyes could see. She swore she could almost see the curve of the earth where the pale blue sky and clouds met with the dark blue water. A multi-colored rock beach with hundreds of chairs and umbrellas stretched on for miles. On top of a long wood and iron pier, stretching out far into the ocean, some kind of carnival was happening. She'd never seen anything more beautiful or more exciting in all her life.

"Brighton Beach Pier." He said in her ear, a strong salty ocean breeze blowing against them, whipping her hair around. "We're only a short way from London, and there are no wizards here, all Muggles."

"We really are alone." She turned to look at him, and a smile broke across both their faces. She felt a bubble of laughter start to form, and threw her arms around his neck, landing a smacking kiss against his mouth.

"Oye! Get a room!" A passing group heckled them, laughing, but continued to walk away. It only made her happier, no gawking, no staring, no flashes, just them. Harry picked her up slightly and started walking, the laughter escaped her, and he set her back down. They started moving with the crowds toward the first wizard free ocean she had ever seen.

* * *

~*~

"So, tell me something," he picked through their bag of salt water taffy.

"Shoot." She snagged another one for herself and then leaned up against the railing of the pier.

"Alright," he popped the piece into his mouth, chewed for a bit, and she could see his mind start formulating his line of questions. "You are being sent to an enchanted island that strips away all your magic. Nothing works. You're allowed to bring one trunk of belongings, of your five favorite things, what are they?"

"Wow." She blew out a breath and then tucked away some stray hair again. The breeze had been blowing all afternoon making her hair extra wavy and piecy. "Alright. I'd bring Arnold, exploding snap cards…"

"Ah! No magic!" He interrupted, and she shot him a dirty look.

"Well, then what's the point of this game? What is life without magic?" She pushed off from the railing, barely missing a family of three moving further down the pier, and came to stand next to him. Harry slung an arm over her shoulder and they started walking again. Her sandals smacking against the ancient wood, mucked and worn with years of abuse, she'd found it hard to believe that everything was still standing on this pier without the use of magic.

"Life without magic is boring, but it can be done." He squeezed her, and she rolled her eyes.

"Fine. Food, water, matches, books, and you." She bumped him with her hip.

"Why me?" He bumped her back, and then reached into the bag again.

"Because of your unparalleled survival skills, and you're dashingly handsome. Easy on the eyes when we've been there for months." She pulled the bag away from his still searching hand.

"And why the books?" He stole the bag back and popped another taffy into his mouth.

"To burn them for fire of course." She skipped out of his reach, he let out a laugh, and then she turned around. "Did you think I was going to read them?"

Another breeze blew through and her hair escaped the twist she'd had it in, blowing all over her face. Before she could even try to manage it she felt his fingers wrap around her flailing hair, and then smooth it back from her face, cupping the back of her head. Then he quickly pulled her close for a searing, melting, and very public kiss. His fingers were slightly cold from the ocean air, his lips tasted like salt-water taffy, but his body was incredibly warm. He pulled away slightly and she felt the world give a delicious spin.

"No, I didn't think you were going to read them."

The pier came back into focus: the clicking of the giant wood rides, the mummer of the crowd, yells of joy, music from the games, and the constant, soothing, rhythmic swell of the ocean below them. His hands made quick work of twisting her hair back up and then stuffing it down into the black jacket, which was swimming on her. She hadn't wanted to alter it smaller.

"So what next? Do you want something to eat? Want to play some games?" He put his arm around her waist and they started walking along, weaving in and out of happy families and couples.

* * *

~*~

"If you could be any animal, what would you be?" He popped another fry into her mouth.

"Easy, a dragon." She took another piece of funnel cake from the plate. "If you could live anywhere in the world where would you go?"

"Maybe here." He looked around appraising the afternoon crowd starting to fill the pier.

"Have you ever left Wizarding London, Harry?" She pointed her fork at him, a strawberry still attached, dripping syrup back down onto the funnel cake.

"Of course."

"When you weren't escaping some diabolical plot on your life?" She countered and ate the strawberry.

"Like a vacation?" He took a long drag of soda.

"Never, right?"

He grinned at her and ate another bite of burger before charging on without answering.

"What's your favorite flower?"

"Anything that's yellow, as you probably figured out." She pushed the funnel cake away, suddenly feeling a little sick from all the sweetness.

"Favorite color?" He continued.

"Yellow and blue." She zipped down her jacket for a moment to show off the halter, and he smiled.

"Favorite holiday?"

"Christmas." She grinned and grabbed his cup of fries for herself.

"Favorite food?" He finished off the burger in two bites.

"Hum….at this point anything but squash and Jello."

They both laughed, a breeze blew through the small grouping of tables that they had been camped out on, and she tucked some hair back before asking,

"And you?"

"Dog. Don't like flowers. Red. Christmas. Treacle tart, but you know that." He finished off the soda as she processed the answers. "Now, would you like me to win you a giant stuffed animal? I've heard that's something you do to impress your girlfriend."

"Is it now? I'd no idea a stuffed bag was supposed to be impressive. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I think it might have been something else you've done that's impressed me." She cocked her head to the side, as if pretending to contemplate what the answer might be. Harry rolled his eyes and threw all their trash away, moving toward her. "Ah, now I remember." She watched him blush slightly, but it could have been the cold air from the ocean.

"Would you like the giant red dog, or the giant pink panda?" He zipped her jacket back up, and with a tug started moving along the line of games. The attendants yelling loudly and gesturing towards their booths and prizes, and finally Harry stopped at one. It was lines and lines of shining plates, and a bucket full of balls.

"You, sir! You look like you could win this gorgeous lady a prize! One plate, that's all it takes. Break a plate and you win a prize." He threw the ball at Harry who instinctively caught it. "One dollar for three balls. Don't disappoint the lady. I can tell she wants a prize!"

"Yes, Harry. Please win me a giant pink panda!" She was barely able to hide the laugh in her voice. He gave her a shrug and slapped down the money on the counter.

"We have a player!" The man said. He looked about George's age, with sandy blond hair and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. He set down two more balls on the counter, and after quickly taking the money stepped out of the way. "For the giant pink panda, for the beautiful lady to my right! Come see if he can do it folks!" The man shouted out, and Harry frowned. A crowd started to gather around them, a perfect arch of families and couples, interested to see.

"No pressure or anything." She laughed under her breath. Harry shook his shoulders as if readying himself and cocked back to throw the first ball. It flew from his hand with impressive speed, but then quickly glanced off the plate.

"OH!" The crowd let out a wail of disappointment.

"Two balls to go, folks! Do you think he can do it? Do you think he has the meddle to win the stunning lady a prize?" Blond George called out to the crowd, a few people started giving words of encouragement. Harry's eyes narrowed at the attendant, not at all liking the line of compliments that seemed to shower from his mouth toward her. Ginny just smiled and gestured toward the plates, and then shook her hands out from their sleeves and crossed her fingers. It made him laugh, and then he cocked back for the second ball.

It hit the same plate again, smack in the middle, knocking it to its side, making it fall out from the holder and spin on the ground to a clattering, still whole, end.

"It's rigged!"

"Oh, tough luck!"

"You never win at these games."

The peanut gallery was commenting as Harry scowled at the plate, like it had offended him. She knew there had to be some kind of catch, some kind of gimmick. Perhaps the plates were slick with grease or oil. Making them shiny, and impossible to break without brute force. Or maybe they weren't glass plates at all.

"One ball left so this magnificent lady can go home with a prize. Is he ready? Is he able? Can he accomplish this goal?" The man heckled on, the crowd started to grow in numbers to watch. Harry was shaking his head, baffled as to how he could have missed the first two. Then she saw it, out of the corner of her eye, one of the plates wasn't glistening like the others. Perhaps the decoy plate, the ones they'd break to trick everyone into playing. She'd had plenty of run-in's with the twins to be able to spot the hook. She sauntered over, trying to look hopeful and bashful at the same time for the crowd, but her smile was much too big.

"Perhaps a good luck kiss is in order? Am I right?" The man shouted out to the crowd. The crowd erupted in cheers. She leaned forward and whispered into his ear.

"Second row. Third one in. From the left." And then left a soft kiss on his cheek. Harry grinned, she stepped away slightly, he really put his weight into it this time, fired off the ball, and it exploded with white shards of glass all over the display and pieces outside the booth. The crowd erupted in cheers, and the attendant begrudgingly got out a large hook to fish down one of the giant pink sawdust pandas.

Blond George heaved it over the counter and it came to a crunchy sounding plop onto the boardwalk.

"Good show, mate. Good show. Want to try your luck again?"

They both laughed, shook their heads, and she bent down to try and pick up the panda. Her hood knocked off, red hair spilling all over her, and heaved it up off the floor. For just being sawdust it had some bulk to it.

"Let me get that." He pulled it out of her hands and turned to face back to the slowly leaving crowd.

"Mum! Mum! Look! It's Harry Potter!"

They froze, her eye training onto a small little boy, maybe about six years old, with large shocked black eyes, and a wild mane of curly brown hair.

"Shush Jullian! Why would Harry Potter be here?" The Mum didn't even look down at her son, who was tugging hard on her jacket. It would only be a matter of time before the lady looked. She grabbed the panda out of Harry's arms and walked right up to the kid.

"Can't take it. Too big. Here you go." She set it down in front of the boy, and without ever looking back grabbed Harry's arm and started dragging him off the pier. Well, they had almost made it an entire day without being spotted.

* * *

~*~

The sun was starting to go down, making the ocean seem to glow from within, as the glassy surface reflected the clouds and changing sky. It was starting to get almost uncomfortably cold now. Her hood was back on, whisps of red hair streaming out from the sides as the wind blew at a constant clip. Families were gathering up the last of their things and abandoning the rock beach for warm cars and homes. They were walking a weaving line where the shore met the sea, her toes froze through, but enjoying the feeling of crunching shells and pebbles under her feet. Far from the peer now, looking like any young couple on the beach, they both had grown quiet. She knew why she had. As the sun had finally passed over them, she'd been flooded with a moment of dread. She was actually watching the time pass. Even though it was one of the best days of her life in recent memory, she still couldn't help but wonder if it was time well spent, she had so little left.

He moved up next to her again, the warmth of his body made her arm wrap around his and keep him closer.

"Do you not like jewelry?" The wind made their conversation seem private, almost like his words were being sucked out to sea.

"I like it as much as the next girl." She squeezed him, suddenly realizing just how frozen she had become from their walk. The pier now far away from them, the beach in front of them almost deserted.

"I never see you wearing any."

She felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment, but she answered him still,

"Because I don't have any."

"Oh," he paused for a moment, and then continued walking. "I wish I would have asked sooner. I would have gotten you something different."

"You bought me a present?"

"Of course. But it's being delivered to you at school. It was supposed to be a surprise. I guess I could stop it if you'd prefer…"

"Whatever you bought was perfect." She cut over him and wrapped her arms around his middle, mostly for heat, but also for closeness. She had to walk slightly sideway to keep the hold on him, and then he stopped.

The sun seemed to be sinking lower by the second. It turned a bright orange as it hung close to the edge of the world. Beautiful, it had been a beautiful, perfect day. She shouldn't ask for more. The only souvenir she'd been given she had to give away, so she detached herself from Harry and then bent down to the multicolored floor. She dug her hand deep into the ground and pulled up a fist of rocks and shells, and quickly deposited it into her pocket. Her toes were ghastly white, the nail beds looking almost purple, it was time to go. Harry was still looking out at the now red sun, dipping lower and lower on the horizon, appearing as though it was struggling to stay above the water.

It was almost as if the sun were a giant, blazing, struggling ball of fire. She felt like the sun wasn't going into the sea. The flat, black, endless vast of water was pulling it down. Down into its depths, smiting the fire out with every small drop on the horizon. The sky was ablaze with color, reds, oranges, yellows, pinks, purples, and a blue that let the beginnings of stars shine through, all watching as the red was engulfed, almost seeming brighter before the dark ocean swallowed it whole. A flash of green danced across the surface of where the sun had been engulfed, and she turned to look at Harry. His face set, his eyes seeming to look far beyond the horizon, and everything magnified as the rapidly building night cast his face in shadows.

In the distance she could see the Brighton Pier merry with hundreds of lights, a stark contrast from the unnerving quiet and darkness the beach around them had become. Then she saw something flitter in the sky, a seagull? A bat? No, her eyes picked out the size as it drew closer, followed by another flying thing. It was an owl, and there was something attached to its leg.

"Harry." Her voice startled him out of wherever his thoughts had lost him, and he turned to look as well. The birds circled around their heads for a moment and then dropped the objects they had been holding directly into their hands. She noticed Harry's first, what looked like a wooden spoon, and she had her Hogwarts tie. As soon as it registered in her mind she didn't have enough time to warn him. They looked at each other, panic crossed his eyes, even in the dark, she felt the familiar pull on her belly button, and she was gone.

* * *

~*~

Her blood was boiling, to the point that any chill that the ocean had given her had burnt off by the time she landed in front of George in Diagon Alley. She hadn't even had time to get her bearings before George smiled and said,

"First come, first drink!"

Her tongue refused to make out sentences, she was beyond rage, it was just fragments and beating.

"Tri-Wizard Cup. Portkey! Bloody idiot. Pathetic drunk. Dirty trick. Kill you! Never date again!" George was able to deflect some of punches but she was able to land a few good ones, he was hunched over, protecting his manhood at her last comment, she was beating on his back, now reduced to a long string of cussing when three other pops came simultaneously next to her.

"Filthy, cheeky, bugger!" Ron yelled out and instantly started beating on his other side, George put his hands over his head and cowered down toward the floor, she went to follow him but felt someone grab her close, and hard.

"You okay?"

She could feel his heart thumping madly in his chest, his body twitching with anticipation of an enemy that would never come.

"Fine. I'm fine. George will not be able to sire children, though." She spat at her brother. "Ruined a perfectly good day!"

"I warned you last night!" He called out from under his arms as Ron landed a final punch and took a step back. "This wasn't just my idea. You think I could get four portkeys all on my own?" He rubbed his ribs a bit and stood back up. Harry was refusing to let her go, his heart still beating against her back. Hermione was looking around them at the still heavy crowd moving to and fro. They were starting to notice who they were.

"Doesn't matter. We're going back. What if we had plans, George?" Ron moved away from the door as some drunken patrons stumbled out. A cold, hard feeling settled in the bottom of her stomach, and she was afraid to look up at the sign.

"These are your plans! This is our gift to the four of you. Hermione and Ginny are going for their final year, Ron you are considered graduated, and Harry is going to Auror school. This is the Weasley sibling gift that is given for coming of age." He took a large breath and frowned. It appeared he hadn't been expecting a stony arrival.

"We came of age last year."

"Well you lot disappeared before we could do anything." George snapped back at Ron. "Bill, Charley, Percy, yes even Percy, and Fleur have all had a hand in this. Please just get inside before we cause an even bigger scene."

They looked out at the crowd starting to form, mostly of gawkers not believing their eyes. Before a camera could be pulled, she took a deep breath, looked up at the sign, The Seeker, sighed and pushed against Harry's strong arm.

"Let's go."

At first, she didn't know if it was going to be a good idea or not, but standing in the threshold of the bar, there was no turning back now. An audible hush filled the bar, and a few glasses actually crashed to the ground with spectacular noise. Very bad idea. George walked right up to the largest booth in the joint, gave them a blinding smile, and asked,

"Mind?"

The group of four could not even manage a syllable, and awkwardly struggled out of the booth that fit eight. George jumped in, and nodded for each of them to fill in. John, the bartender from before, appeared with a tray of drinks.

"On the house!" He said, but it seemed like a yell in the still silent bar.

"Bill said he'd be over after work. He might even drag Fleur along with him. I think the big booth was a good idea." George took a long drag from his drink. The four of them just stared at the table, the bar still silent.

"I hope you think this is funny George," Ginny fumed at him. She could feel the heat of anger blush her cheeks. "Not your brightest idea." She added with white hot fury.

"Oh, lighten up. You all had to come out of hiding sooner or later. Can't live the rest of your lives dodging social interactions. What a better way to make your social début then where the whole Wizarding world can gossip about you?" He took another long slug from his drink and Ginny actually thought she might melt into her seat from embarrassment. A hard edge had wrapped around his words, and his knuckles were white with the effort of holding onto his mug.

"Harry?" A voice echoed out into the bar. Ginny felt him tense up immediately, keeping his face on the table, a hand absently appearing to push back hair that wasn't there. She dared a glance at the voice and let out a sigh of relief,

"Oh, thank Merlin."

"Harry, is that really you?" Neville made his way from the bar, carrying three butterbeers in his hands and appeared at the head of their table. He set them down and let out a large laugh. Hermione and Ron looked up and the searingly cold tension that had filled the booth only a moment ago was washed away.

"Neville, what are you doing here?" Hermione seemed genuinely surprised.

"I think you should tell me first," he laughed again.

"George tricked us here," Ron grumbled and shot a white-hot glare at his brother. George just waved him off with a dismissive hand, taking another drink.

"Here's as good a place as any! They had really good chips here." Neville smiled and John showed up again this time with another round.

"This one is on the couple in the corner," he politely said. With a flick of his head towards the far back corner of the pub the couple gave a large wave. A mumble started to form in the bar; Harry loosened up and looked at Neville for the first time. George raised his glass to the couple. Neville took a seat next to her, so now she was sandwiched between the two of them.

"Hey, Neville," Harry mumbled and picked up a mug of butterbeer.

"So what have you all been up to? I know I've been getting all my things together for Hogwarts."

"Just enjoying the last few weeks of the summer." Hermione offered and gently picked up one of the bottles. John appeared again, setting down another round of butterbeers,

"This one is from the couple with the red jacket." He ducked away just as quietly as he had appeared. Ginny and George lifted their eyes to the couple, they lifted their drinks, and from the corner of her eye she noticed George and herself had nodded in return.

"Are you going to be going to the match next week? I heard it was the Cannon's Ron." Neville continued, undisturbed by the slowly growing rumble of the pub. People were finally starting to talk amongst themselves.

"I had forgotten all about that." Ron looked over at Harry for a moment. Harry's eyes were still glued to the mug in his hands. "Of course I'll be there! A free Cannon's match!" Ron's small laugh caused Hermione to relax back into the booth.

"Well, we should all meet up and go together. If we get there early enough we can get some good seats!" Neville took a swig from his butterbeer.

"How early is early, Neville?" Hermione asked nervously. "I don't want to be up at the crack of dawn." She gave a wary glance at Ron. He slung his arm around her shoulders and gave a large smile.

"You know me too well, love." Ron finished off one of the butterbeer's, and grabbed another from the table.

"This round is from the group over in the far corner." John left six small round glasses, soft blue smoke hanging around the surface of the liquid. It was dark green, and looked a little bit dangerous. Ron gave it an eye, knocked one over towards George and lifted it up. With a nod to the table, the two of them tipped them back without a second thought. Ron gave a little cough and tapped one over towards Neville.

"Come on Neville!" Ron offered and snuck another look at Harry. "Harry will take one with you."

She felt him tense again, and Ron flinched at the glare that Harry shot him from across the booth. The mood suddenly shifted to arctic cold unease. Neville's banter shuttered to a mumble as he felt the mood shift. Ron and Harry were still locked in a staring contest; Hermione had started peeling the label off her bottle. George was lost deep into his mug. With a large breath she took one off the table, the blue smoke swirling around her hand,

"Cheer's Neville!" She tried to sound as bright as she could. Neville smiled and slug his drink back. The fire whiskey bit at the back of her throat and for a moment her eyes watered with the splash of green liquid that swam down. It hit her stomach and she immediately regretted the decision. Her body warmed up, the muscles in her shoulders relaxed and prickled with relief. Everyone gave her a startled look, and a smile crept across George's face.

"Not so bad?" She asked Neville and he laughed back in agreement. It had worked, for the moment. Neville picked right back up with his line of conversation.

"I was thinking about 9AM. That's not too early, but still good enough for some really wicked seats." He grabbed another mug of butterbeer from the table.

"From the ladies in the center," John dropped off eight ruby red glasses, frost still clinging to the glass. "They are much better served cold."

A Weird Sister's song filled the pub, and the bar visibly relaxed with the added addition of noise. John appeared almost instantly and dropped off twelve bottles of butterbeer,

"From the two gentlemen at the bar." He banished the few empty glasses and with a flick of his wand the table seemed to expand before them to hold all the bottles and glasses now littering the table. As soon as he disappeared he was back with a giant bucket of fish and chips. He landed it on the table,

"The couple by the door."

Hermione's eyes grew a little wide with the amount of alcohol on the table. Ron looked over at George before he turned to Neville,

"Did you bring anyone with you Neville? We're never going to finish all this."

"I actually was buying some butterbeers for Hannah and Susan before I was sidetracked here. They ran into each other at Gringotts and then bumped into me at the door. Seems everyone had the same thought tonight! Hold on," he pushed off from the table and ambled across the pub. George fixed her with a warning look, and wordlessly pointed with his head at Harry, who was now fidgeting.

"Don't go anywhere, Harry." She quickly whispered. His muscles flexed in his jaw, and she knew she had caught him about to flee. "People will think it's rude."

"You don't have to drink, Harry." Hermione pleaded and looked out at Neville coaxing Susan and Hannah over. "You just have to stay."

"Why?" He bit out. Hermione rolled her eyes at his dark mood, leaned over the table and whispered furiously, "that's a reporter from The Prophet up against the bar. You don't need any bad press right before you leave."

"She's right." Ron mumbled. He grabbed one of the red drinks and handed it to George. He pushed another towards Ginny, her hand closed around the stem when Harry lowly groaned,

"You haven't eaten enough to be drinking."

"A Weasley never turns away a visitor or a drink," she flippantly retorted and tipped the liquid to the back of her throat. George and Ron quickly followed suite. Neville drug Susan and Hannah over to the table.

"You can see; there is just far too much for us!" Neville gestured largely at the table. Hannah slid in next to Hermione, Neville right after her, and Susan sunk in next to Ginny smiling at Harry, and he relaxed his jaw.

"Susan," he offered in greeting and grabbed a second bottle of butterbeer.

"Harry," she picked up the ruby red drink from the table.

"From the ladies in the booth," John set down eight straight shots of firewhiskey on the table, and with a flick of his wand set them on fire. The red flame licked around the shots glasses, glowing bright in the slightly dark pub. "Obviously blow them out before you take them." He slid away again.

"Hermione?" Ginny glanced meaningfully at the ruby red glasses. Hermione thought about it for a second, and then passed another over towards Hannah. Ginny lifted her glass and the girls all threw it back. The bells on the front door jingled open and Bill and Fleur pushed into the crowded pub. Without missing a beat George raised his hands and wove them back and forth over his head. Bill grabbed Fleur's hand and guided her over towards the booth. John beat them to it, and with a flick of his wand the table expanded again, the walls of the pub seeming to expand out into the street. He dropped off a bottle of champagne as Fleur and Bill settled down.

"This is from the young man at the bar." With a flick of his wrist the table filled with crystal champagne flutes. With a loud pop the cork flew off the top and John expertly caught the stream in a glass. He poured a half glass for everyone at the table. The group leaned around each other to see the patron at the bar; he gave them a deep nod and turned back to his glass.

"Looks like we got here just in time." Bill laughed and lifted his glass. Hermione, Ron, George, Neville, Hannah, Susan, Fleur, and Ginny all rose a glass. Fleur was looking rosy and happy next to Bill. Harry continued to stare at his bottle of butterbeer.

"Cheers everyone," Bill smiled and they all tipped it back. Ginny felt the bubbles slosh around with the three drinks already in her stomach. She felt a warm buzz start at the back of her head; she looked at Hermione and saw her cheeks filled with a red blush.

"Think you're up for it Ron?" Bill picked up a bottle of butterbeer and started expertly knocking the still flaming shots of fire whiskey across the table towards George and Ron. They barely fit between the piling drinks and the edge of the table, but they landed in front of both of them.

"Let's not have a repeat of last night, eh?" Hermione quickly whispered. But it wasn't low enough and George and Harry let out a laugh. Everyone glanced at Harry and then smiled.

"I don't know if little brother here can handle it. I heard the amount of vomit flying around the bathroom this morning was almost comical." George gloated as he fingered the shot.

"I think I'm ready for it now." Ron grumbled and grabbed the shot himself. Hermione sighed and snatched a butterbeer from the table. Something churned in Ginny's belly and it fell out of her mouth,

"I want one."

Susan and Hannah's mouths dropped open a little. Bill slid the still flaming shot towards her.

"No, you don't." Harry quietly said, his hand catching the shot before it reached her. A nervous laugh escaped Ron's lips and she felt her face slowly turn from pink to red. Harry looked up at her for the first time that night, and without breaking eye contact blew out the shot and took it all in one breath. He set it back down onto the table and then took a swig of his butterbeer.

"Now we have a game!" Bill yelled out excited and nodded for the rest of the Weasley's to slug back their shots.

"So what should it be tonight?' George asked as he poured another glass of champagne for Hannah and Susan. They both gave him a sly smile.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione finished off another bottle of butterbeer.

"From the group by the front window," John set down eight more shots of fire whiskey and with a causal flick set them on fire. Harry reached across the table and picked up the bucket of chips. He set them down in front of Ginny, and grabbed one for himself.

"How many people are in this pub?" Susan asked nervously. The group glanced out from their booth into the slowly crowding pub. While it had only been about twenty people when they had started it was now full of patrons. They were laughing, talking, and some were even bobbing their heads to the music that filled the pub. John was gliding around all the tables and chatting with everyone. There had to be at least 50 people in there now, not including their group.

As another small group entered the pub the bells on the front door jingled merrily as they stepped inside, and a cool breeze filled the stuffy atmosphere. She and Hermione thought the same thing and shrugged out of their jackets.

"They can't all buy us drinks," Hannah laughed.

"I bet they will try." Neville smiled.

"They just want to thank you," George was looking directly at Harry. The two locked eyes for a moment. "It's going to happen, no matter if you want it to or not Harry."

The table fell quiet, everyone looking at the flames of the shots licking around the white frosted glasses. Ginny felt him take a deep breath next to her and then he pushed up from the table to stand on his seat in the booth. Everyone stared at him for a bewildered moment. Harry reached down and grabbed a bottle of butterbeer and held it out in front of him. The pub fell silent again, watching his every move. He lifted the bottle a little higher, gave the entire bar a slow nod and then his voice rang out loud and clear,

"Cheers!"

The bar exploded with noise. People started clapping, whistling, clinking glasses, and yelling out words of encouragement that were mixed and lost in the tornado of noise. Harry gave the crowd another nod and then the puff of purple smoke and flash of light exploded inside the pub. Everyone started laughing and clapping again as the reporter from the Prophet took a few more pictures. After the third one Harry quickly sunk back down to the table. The pub was still buzzing with excitement as he settled back down next to Ginny. Hermione and Ron had smiles so big they could not hide them, Fleur was furiously blinking back tears, Susan and Hannah smiled at each other and then let a small laugh escape with Neville.

"We've all been sad for too long," George started in a bittersweet voice. He raised one of the fire whiskey shots, everyone at the table lifted whatever drink happened to be in front of them. "It's time to be happy."

"Cheers!" The group threw back their shots or drinks of butterbeer or champagne.

"I'm thinking Tidily Winks." Bill grabbed a bottle of butterbeer off the table.

"What is that?" Neville questioned and grabbed a bottle himself. The group settled down into their seats, comfortably, for the first time that night. Letting the noise of the pub enclose them, and the closeness of the booth flush their cheeks. Ginny felt her head swim for a moment and reached out for a bottle to drink anything. As her fingers wrapped around it Harry's arm passed along her shoulders, his hand grabbed the neck of the bottle and pulled it out of her hands. His hot whisper was next to her ear before she could react,

"Not that one."

"Why?" She asked and moved closer to his side. His breath fell across the bare skin of her shoulder,

"That's the one that I spit the shots into. So no one knows that I'm not drinking." She could feel his smile, and couldn't help but smile back herself, and then the pop of light and haze of purple smoke broke their intimate moment. She prepared for Harry to move away but he didn't, his voice rumbled next to her,

"Why don't you bet that I'll win this game, and I'll split the money with you."

She turned her head and whispered into his own ear,

"What makes you think I'd split it with you? Now that I know your secret."

He didn't even flinch when the second pop of light and smoke burst out in their booth. She turned her head back out towards the group, catching Fleur and Hermione's glance at the two of them. His breath filled her senses again,

"How about I make a deal with you?" His fingers started rubbing small circles on her arm. "In exchange for your silence about my advantage over your brothers," he stared but she turned her head as well, their cheeks touched, his five o'clock shadow tickled her skin,

"I think it's called cheating."

A third flash blinded the group and Bill pushed back hard from the table.

"Alright mate we tried to be nice!" He yelled out and the reporter backed up quickly from the corner he was shooting from. John and his fellow bartender were on the reporter before Bill could get out of his chair. They pushed him out of the bar with a hard shove. The bar exploded in a round of applause,

"To John!" Someone yelled over the applause and the group let out another set of clapping and whistles. Everyone started tipping back their drinks as John and his bartender took a few bows. She could feel Harry's laugh shake her own body, his hand starting to rub circles over her again.

"So are you in or out Harry?" Bill sat back down and spilled out some coins from his pocket on the table. John came over and banished the empty glasses to the bar. It lightened up the space a little bit, only to have it filled by ten flaming shots again. Harry pulled his arm from around Ginny's shoulder and took the 'shot bottle' with him.

"I'm in." He grinned at Bill.

"Alright then, you sure you don't want to play Neville?" Bill yelled over the growing noise of the pub.

"No, no! I'll just watch." Neville smiled at Hannah and Hermione.

"Ten Knut's that Harry wins it all." Ginny exclaimed and slammed the money down onto the table. George raised his eyebrows in suspicion, but clinked the money down on the table himself.

"You have far too much confidence in your boyfriend." Bill laughed. She felt herself flush at his comment. "Come on Ron! You're going to let your best mate impede your honor?"

"Alright," he threw the money down himself. "Let's start this."

* * *

~*~

_She was at Hogwarts; she recognized the old grey stones of the hallways as they whipped past her. She was running, full tilt, through the hallways, her sprint echoing loudly off the walls._

_ "Oh, we will get you!" Someone had sneered behind her, closer then she thought. She slid around a corner, slamming into the walls, her arm started bleeding. With a cry of panic she started with her sprint again, tapestry's ripping past her. She knew she only had a few more feet to run, she could make it. _

_ "No one's here to save you now!" The voice bellowed out into the hallway. The torches lighting up the hallway started to burn out, her hair whipped wildly around her face. Her wand was starting to slip out of her hands slick with sweat. _

_ "I need to hide! I need to hide! I need to hide!" She screamed inside her head, a strangled cry escaped her throat, the door swung open; she dived through the opening, the door slammed shut with a final kind of clinking. The furious cry of her predator reached through the thick walls and she picked herself up off the floor. Now both of her arms were bleeding, her palms were red and raw from falling onto them. She sat on the cold, damp floor of the Room of Requirements and looked up to see her reflection._

_ It wasn't right, she was pale, almost green, her hair swimming around her head like she was underwater. The bleeding cuts that she had were grotesquely healed with dark scars across her ashen skin. Her closed eyes opened and looked at her, clouded over with white. Her terrifying reflection reached a beckoning hand out towards her. The pounding on the wall from her predator echoed in the empty space as the hand called out to her._

_ Something was moving behind her reflection. Her floating, billowing hair obscured the dark shadow, walking towards her reflection._

_ "We'll find a way in Red!" The predator called out and the banging stopped for a moment. She looked at the sealed door behind her, and when she looked back at the mirror Tom Riddle stood behind her dead self. A cold, evil smile spread across his lips, and he too reached out a hand and started beckoning her towards them._

_ "Harry, Harry, Harry," she repeated over and over again to the empty room. She grabbed her arms around herself, the blood now dripping down her arms onto her clothes. She started rocking back and forth; she felt it build up in chest. The scream started at the bottom of her lungs and ripped out of her throat,_

_ "Harry!"_

_She struggled against her own arms, now holding her tight to the hard floor. She closed her eyes and started kicking out against the invisible force holding her down to the floor. She opened her eyes again and the Room of Requirements was gone, instead she was in a sea of grey and darkness. _

Panic was still trapped in her throat and she let out a strangled scream against the grey holding her down. Once it escaped her lips the grey was gone, ripped off her in flash, and the room exploded with light.

"Ginny wake up!" Harry was yelling at her. She forced her eyes open and he was there, really there, unlike all her nightmares at Hogwarts. He was terrified, his eyes darting around her face, trying to understand what was going on. She curled up into herself, a tight ball on the bed, and the tears escaped in a quick and almost suffocating pace. Her mind was still flashing back and forth between his stripped bed, and the nightmarish Room of Requirement. For a moment he stood there, not knowing what to do, and then he slid onto his bed and pulled her up into his lap.

She could not stop the sobs. She was still half awake, and half asleep, and mostly drunk. The sobs ripped from her throat just like her screams had in her dream. His arms squeezed her tight against his chest, he was murmuring into her hair,

"It's over. It's over. You're safe."

She heard Ron's door rip open and he stumbled into Harry's room.

"What's wrong? The scream woke me up."

Hermione's soft patter was next to cross the hallway. She heard her take a few startled breaths before asking,

"Harry what happened?"

"I don't..." Harry trailed off and squeezed her closer. She felt another sob break through. "I don't know."

Opening her bleary eyes she watched as Hermione put the lamp back on the nightstand, and with a nod to Ron they pulled the sheet and comforter back onto his bed. Harry grabbed the comforter and wrapped it around them.

"Should we Floo my Mum?" Ron looked at the two of them, and she closed her eyes as another flash of panic made her chest start to hitch on every breath.

"It's two in the morning," Harry ran a hand down her hair. "Bill already told them she was staying here. Let's just wait until the morning."

"Do you need anything?" Hermione's pajama pants ruffled as she took a step backward out into the hallway. She reached a hand up to wipe at some of the tears, watching the panicked and drained faces of her brother and Hermione shifting weight in the doorway.

"No." He settled the covers around them better. "Just leave your door open."

"Of course." Hermione agreed. She pulled Ron back towards his room. She heard them sit down on Ron's bed, and realized the silencing charms must have been removed because of her stay. With a long sigh Harry let his head fall back and hit his headboard, his arms still tightly around her. She took a few more shuddering breaths, and felt her tears start to subside. Slowly she felt herself start to melt against his shoulder and chest, focusing on his steady heartbeat. She closed her eyes.

When she woke up for the second time they weren't sitting anymore. Now sober enough to realize what was going on, she could deduce that she was still in her clothes from the day before, she was going to have a horrible hang over from drinking too much again, and she was wrapped up around Harry. He was still fast asleep, his breath coming out slow and even right above her head. She was tucked right under his chin, using his upper arm as a pillow, with her left leg trapped between his two, his right arm slung over her waist, and the covers resting over them both.

It was still dark outside, the curtains drawn and dark, the light next to his bed now turned off. She could hear Ron's snoring from across the hall, and then Harry mumbled something in his sleep and pulled her tight up against his chest, almost suffocating her. Struggling against his strangely strong arm, amidst a deep sleep, she managed to wiggle her way around so that her back was now up against him. His hand tucked up under her ribs and pulled her so that there was no gap between them, body heat coming off in waves, and then sighed into her hair. Her eyes started to slip back down, vaguely registering the feel of every section of her body settling and heating up with Harry's. Her chest warmed, her heart expanded with contentment, and she smiled as she fell back asleep.

His hand was running up and down over her hip, methodically. With a deep breath she stretched out, lengthening her spine, and then curling up against him.

"You awake?" It rumbled in his chest, and she smiled. Slowly she turned around, her shirt bunching up, riding high on her waist, and scooted a little so that she could see him. He looked so much younger without his glasses on.

"Sort of." She yawned. There was barely light coming through the curtains now. He leaned across the small space and pressed a soft kiss onto her lips. She leaned into it, pressing her body against him. His hand ran back and forth across her exposed mid-drift, as he continued to give her soft kisses. She ran a hand over his hair, raking her fingers across his scalp, and he smiled against her mouth.

"Good morning."

"Is it morning?" She smiled back and stretched again, her toes scratching down his shins.

"We could pretend it isn't. Go back to sleep." He whispered, running a hand up her shirt, sneaking a finger under the back of her bra.

"Or something else." She bit her lip and tipped her head up to his. With one crooked smile he planted a demanding kiss against her ready mouth and rolled toward her. His fingers fumbled with the knot on the back of her shirt and then pulled away, holding one of the ties. With his left arm still under her head, he rolled over her, a leg between her own, her hips pressed up against him, he started kissing a slow line from her neck down toward her bra, bringing the fabric with him, and then his alarm went off.

With a groan his forehead fell down onto her chest. Instantly panic flooded her. Their time was up.

"Oh God, Harry. Don't go." It escaped before she could stop it. She swallowed hard against the tears that started to pool behind her eyes.

"I was supposed to be there last night." He whispered to her chest, still not able to meet her eyes. "Everyone else showed up last night, I only have an hour to apparate there, or they won't take me."

"I doubt that." She said and then pressed her lips as tight as she could, trying to battle the combination of panic and sadness that she was not ready for this early in the morning.

"I have to go." He whispered, kissed her chest, and then rolled off her, hitting his alarm with one smooth move. For a moment they laid there, listening the birds starting to wake up, and Ron's snores in the other room. She sat up, releasing his arm, pulled her knees up to her chest, her shirt falling down around her hips, and wrapped her arms around her legs, her hair falling around her like a blanket. She took a steadying breath, summoning whatever courage she could and looked back up. He was sitting up next to her, and looked over.

"Go." She lowly whispered. They nodded at each other, and he rolled out of the bed. He just had his boxers and a shirt on, and reaching a hand to his back pulled if off with one movement, now practically naked. She took a good look at him, a few perfectly round coin marks on his back, and then it was covered with a black shirt. Next came the black jeans over his red and white striped boxers. He searched around for a moment for his socks, still unable to see anything well enough without his glasses. His hands slapped around the top of his trunk, and she spotted them,

"On the floor. To your right."

He picked them up and walked back over to the bed, sitting down on the edge to pull them on. She pulled the covers up over her lap, and leaned back on her hands, her hair covering some of her bra. He grabbed his glasses next, and then twisted around.

"You should go back to sleep. It's six in the morning."

"I will. When you leave." She nodded, fighting against the surge of sorrow that flooded her, and smiled. He picked up some boots from the floor and started on those next. "Did you remember extra underwear?"

"What?" He laughed and looked up at her.

"My Mum always asks us that before a trip." She managed a half smile, and then bit her tongue, stemming the dangerous prickle of tears.

"I packed extra underwear." He smiled and stood up, ready. He looked at the clock, and then crawled back onto the bed, his boots catching on the edge, not letting him come all the way on.

"Be safe, alright? Come back to me, Harry. I don't want to hear any crazy stories about you taking on fifteen Dementors or anything." She smiled, but the first tear betrayed her. She bit her bottom lip, and he reached out and wiped it away.

"It's more then thirty Dementors that would be considered crazy."

"Oh, don't say that." She moaned.

"Kidding. I'm kidding."

"No you're not, that's the problem." She shook her head. "How about you just promise me not to do anything by yourself. If there's six dragons trying to eat a village, think about asking for some help before you charge in there."

"Deal." He grabbed the shirt around her waist and pulled her to him, making her smolder and get further upset with his searing kiss. He pulled back and whispered against her lips. "I'll see you soon."

"You'll see me at Christmas." She countered, still so close she felt her bottom lip slide against his.

"Before Christmas." He pulled back and smiled, glanced at the clock again and moved off the bed. He grabbed his backpack, slung it over his shoulder and took a deep breath.

"Bye." She swallowed hard again.

"I love you. I'll see you soon."

"I love you too." She smiled, feeling the tears hang onto her bottom lashes, one blink away from falling. She didn't want them too; she didn't want his last memory to be of tears. With one final look he nodded, and then closed the door behind himself as he left. She held her breath, closed her eyes and let the tears fall down her face. Once she heard the fireplace roar to life, and then die back down, she fell back onto the bed, wanting to cry, but not finding the tears. All she was now was scared. Scared for Harry, scared for their relationship, and scared, for the first time, of having to face Hogwarts without him.

She pulled his pillow up against her; still warm and smelling like his soap and aftershave. Her hand ran across the slowly cooling empty sheets where he had been not even ten minutes ago. There was nothing she could do about it now.

He was gone.

* * *

~*~

Author's Note:

I have a couple of notes for this chapter. First, my apologies to UK readers…or anyone that has ACTUALLY gone to Brighton Beach. I'm an American and I have never been there. Google maps can only show you so much. I tried to get it as close as possible.

Secondly, apparently I'm starting to veer off-canon, since JKR stated in an interview that Harry, Ron and Neville get recruited to be Auror's by Kingsley. I would argue that I have only slightly altered that statement, she never said at the same time….

Once again, Courtney, editor extraordinaire…you continue to amaze me with your infinite patents, and miraculous ability to unblock me. And another super sized thanks going out to friendsofhagrid and the impeccable work she's doing. Thanks!


	15. Chapter 15

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 15~

_Time may fly, and dreams may die_

_The shaking voice that tells him go_

_Still thinks he might_

_But knows he won't_

_Missing the War by Ben Folds Five_

* * *

~*~

She heard the bathroom door open and a soft patter across the floor. Hermione, dressed in something completely different from last night, opened the door and hung back in the frame.

"Are you awake?" She whispered. She nodded. "Ron went to get food from the grocer. Do you want some lunch?"

Her eyes shot to the clock on the bedside. Her face felt swollen from tears, and the hang over was starting to take effect, but she could make out a one and what looked like a four and five. She nodded again and Hermione silently left the room, closing the door half way behind her. At that moment the front door opened up and Ron called out into the apartment,

"I'm famished, love. What are you feeding us?"

"Whatever you're making us." Hermione retorted and she heard them setting bags down onto the counter. With a sigh she threw the covers off herself and re-tied her shirt. Then she saw it, balled up on the floor in the corner, Harry's black jacket from yesterday. She rolled out of the bed, her body stiff and uncooperative and shrugged it on. Her hand instinctively went into the pockets, and there was the fistful of beach. She tried to ball it all in her fist before walking out toward the dining room. Ron and Hermione were still unpacking as she pulled out a chair.

"Morning," she nodded and sat down. Ron appraised her for a second and then started in a very light tone,

"So your scream woke the dead this morning."

"My scream?" She looked at the two of them for a long moment. Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance. Ginny closed her eyes for a moment and then she remembered the terror, not the dream. And then the green, his eyes on her face, his hands on her shoulders.

"Do you not remember your dream?" Hermione supplied. Her eyes snapped back open.

"No."

Hermione frowned a little bit, and Ron crossed his arms over his chest.

"I haven't seen that much panic on Harry's face in a long time. You were screaming his name like someone was stabbing you." Ron gave her another look.

"You were very upset Ginny, you were sobbing. Are you sure you don't remember what had upset you so much." Hermione bit her lip a little bit, worry flashed across her face. Ginny tried to make her mind fight the confusion to see what might have caused such a nightmare, but her mind only filled with Harry. It was all she remembered, his eyes, his arms, his chest. Then she had a very real memory of his body pressed close against her, his kiss groaning into her mouth. She fought back the blush that tried to creep up her neck, and pressed the rocks and pebbles harder into her fist.

"I don't remember. It was a nightmare. I'm sorry I woke you all up." She tucked the wisps of hair back behind her ear and stifled a yawn. "How exactly did I get here last night?" Ron and Hermione smiled at each other for a moment, and then Ron leaned against the counter.

"We were all pretty trashed last night. We walked back to the apartment and you passed out on Harry's bed." Ron picked up an apple from the counter and bit into it. "Bill sent an owl to Mum saying that Harry was going to sleep on the couch, and that it was just going to be easier this way because of how knackered everyone was." He picked up the paper off the counter and tossed it onto the table. "But you might want to hold off on going home."

She only saw the header for The Daily Prophet, but memory flooded her and she sucked in a breath.

"The photographer."

He snatched the paper from her hands and unfolded it across the table. There on the front page, in big bold black letters: **Harry Potter in Love**. She gave a little gasp at the title and then a groan at the pictures that followed. The first was innocent enough, just the two of them sitting at the booth. The three that followed, on the other hand, caused her heart to actually pound in her ears.

The first picture was Harry, his arm around her shoulders, a drink hanging from his hand. He was whispering something into her ear and Ginny watched as the wizard picture showed her face go from thinking to a sly smile. The second one wasn't any better. With her hand on his chest she was whispering into his ear and a bright smile pulled across Harry's face.

The final one was the one that made her stomach drop into her feet. The light from the shots was flickering off their faces; her hand was still on his chest, his arm still around her shoulder, holding the butterbeer. The picture kept freezing on what looked like a moment right before they would kiss, even though she remembered that they had not at the pub. They were both sharing a very private smile as the rest of the group around them laughed and picked up shots.

"Oh no," Ginny groaned and pushed the paper away.

"It's a good thing they didn't catch us all walking back to the flat." Ron added smugly, "I'm expecting the Howler any minute now."

"But it's only this one newspaper, right?" She looked up at Ron. He took another bite out of his apple.

"Sorry, Gin. Everyone picked it up and ran with it. Some titles are a little more scandalous then others. Witch Weekly was the worst. Hermione and I had a good laugh at that one." Ron walked back into the kitchen to grab the pitcher of juice Hermione had finished fixing.

"I don't want to know," She moaned and let her head fall onto the table.

"Oh the 'Sorry Girls, He's Taken' one!" Hermione laughed as she set down some sandwiches next to her.

"How do you two even know all this?" She meekly asked. Ron finished the apple with one more bite, and said with his mouth still full,

"We went out and got some breakfast this morning, while you were still asleep."

An owl swooped in from the open window and landed on the coffee table. The three froze at the sight of the owl, it's leg held out for someone to take the letter.

"It's not red, it's not a howler." Hermione whispered.

"Doesn't mean it's still not scary." Ron whispered back. "It's for you Ginny."

"Of course." She growled. With a huff she stood from the table and in one swift movement snatched the letter from the bird and it swooped up towards the window. She opened up the letter before she could second guess herself and let out a giant sigh of relief.

"It's from Neville. He wants to make sure we're all still going to the game." She fell back into the chair and let the letter flutter to the floor. "How bad do you think this is going to be?"

She looked from Ron to Hermione a couple of times. Their faces had not changed from the mixed look of humor and concern. She looked down the flickering, moving pictures taunting her from the floor.

"We're here for you, Ginny." Hermione said supportively.

"What's the worst she can do? Harry's gone, and you're leaving for Hogwarts in a week." Ron added. She put her face in her hands for a moment, the clock gonged for two, and she sighed. She had forgotten all about the photographer, and now she was going to have to face it alone.

"I'm just going to get this over with." She decided, and stood up quickly, her head swimming with the last of the alcohol, and marched straight toward the fireplace.

* * *

~*~

Mrs. Weasley had her clock next to her on the couch, and every conceivable newspaper spread out in front of her on the coffee table. Her stomach did a warning flip; this was going to be horrible.

"Do you think you could tell me which part I am supposed to be more embarrassed about?" She started in a calm low voice. She tensed up at this new tactic; she'd been expecting her to scream. "That my daughter was drunk in public last night? That her brother's, three of them, didn't see a problem with this? That her boyfriend didn't see a problem with this? Or should I be embarrassed about the pictures in every wizard's hand? Or that they are so intimate? Maybe I should be upset about you sleeping in Harry's bed? Or that you've graced me with your presence at two in the afternoon?" Mrs. Weasley looked off to the side for a moment, pressing her lips into a thin line. "I don't even think I want to know what happened."

"Mum," Ginny started, but Mrs. Weasley snapped her head back and in low voice warned,

"Don't say a word."

Ginny gulped and took a stumbling step back into the fireplace. After a few frightening moments she took a large breath and continued in a strained voice although the edge was starting to wear off,

"I would imagine that you don't need to be reminded of this but you are in the public spotlight now."

"Yes Mum." She nodded and looked at the floor.

"Everything you do, everything you say, everything you buy, and touch, and look at will be scrutinized."

"Yes Mum." She looked up briefly and then back down at the floor.

"Things like this," she picked up several papers at once, shaking them at her. "Are only going to make you look like a tart. You have to be smarter then the reporters, Ginevra. You have to be smarter then the photographers. This cannot happen again. Do you understand?"

"Yes Mum." She locked eyes with her, and swallowed hard.

"Are you sure? Do you understand that these people can destroy you? You are on their radar now; they are going to be looking for you, watching you. And the fact that Harry is gone now is only going to raise suspicions of anything you do."

"Are you telling me to be a hermit?" The flash of anger broke through for a moment over the fear. Her Mum rolled her eyes and then frowned.

"I'm telling you to be smart. But being a hermit for the next week might be in everyone's best interest." She threw the papers to the floor.

"But the Quidditch ma…" She trailed off at the warning look she shot her.

"Who is going?"

"Me, Neville, Ron and Hermione, so far."

"Invite more people." Her Mum flatly said.

"More? It will be impossible to get seats together for more then four."

"Yes, but if your brother and his girlfriend are the only other people going, then people are going to wonder where Harry is, and why Neville is there."

"But Neville's just my friend." Ginny started.

"You think they know that?" Her Mum quickly snapped. "You think they care? All they see is you out with Harry one night, and then you out with Neville a few days later. Think Ginevra."

"I'm sorry." Her mind started to swim with an overload. She was still horribly embarrassed about the pictures, incredibly upset about Harry's departure, and now panicking about every step she was going to have to take. The room started to blur around the edges. Her mind pounded with her hang over, and she suddenly felt weary, even with more then twelve hours of sleep. She shot a steadying hand out against the fireplace.

"Don't tell me you're sorry. Just think about what you're going to do." Her Mum stood, waved her wand making all the papers catch flame and burn where they lay. "This isn't just about you anymore. Everything you do, it reflects against Harry as well. You need to make sure you are more careful."

Anger boiled through the slowly fading room. She had no control over the reporters they hid everywhere.

"That's easy for you to say!" She yelled. "You're not dating Harry Potter! I understand what I took on, Mum. I will try not to let this happen again, but I promise nothing." The room spun around her, her breath started coming shallow in her chest, the room closing in. "I didn't ask for this."

"All the same, this is the choice you made!" Her mother implored to her. "It comes with Harry, it always has. You have to decide are you going to keep yourself hidden from the press or let them continue to speculate and lie about you? Ginny you need to see reason."

"I didn't ask for this." She huffed again and the world zeroed down to black. She registered the bricks colliding with her face before her mind, blissfully and thankfully; let her slide back into darkness.

* * *

~*~

_"Ginny!" Fred burst into the room with a wicked smile across his face. "It's time."_

_ "Let's go." She jumped up from the bed and followed Fred and George to the fireplace. "The Hog's Head." She threw the Floo in and they all jumped into the fireplace. Her lungs compressed, her head swam, and just when she thought it was probably stupid to Floo so far they landed in the bar and she stepped out, as gracefully as she could._

_ "Miss Weasley." Aberforth nodded deeply to her._

_ "Hello Aberforth, been busy?" She moved toward him as Fred and George detangled themselves._

_ "They're here. Just went through moments ago." His eyes twinkled at her and she gave him a big smile._

_ "Thanks again, I'll owe you."_

_ "You just make sure to drop by when you come around."_

_ "Will do." _

_Fred came up next to her and Aberforth quickly let the tunnel appear for them._

_ "How did we not know about this one?" George looked down the tunnel for a moment and then they all started walking. All her mind kept running over was the two words she'd wanted to hear all year, they're here. Still walking in silence she reached the door, turned the handle, and walked through. _

_ The room was bustling, filling with students, looking very different then the last time she'd seen it. But all heads snapped toward them and she couldn't stop the smug smile that pulled across her face when she saw the disbelieving green take her in. Finally, everything was falling into place._

* * *

~*~

Her face was killing her, like someone had batted a bludger at her skull. Then her mind quickly supplied the last image before the blackout of quickly approaching bricks. Her hands snapped up from her sides and started touching her cheeks, forehead, jaw, everything was still in order.

"You need to stop fainting. It's getting rather annoying now." Ron laughed from her chair. She opened her eyes to see her room in an orange-red glow, and her brother flipping through her picture book. "I mean, at first it was alarming, then humorous, then taxing, now it's just annoying." He set it down on her desk. "And Harry's always had the quicker reaction time out of us all, so you'll be getting a lot more gashes and bruises if you keep this up."

"I'll see what I can do." She grumbled, her throat dry and aching. She sat up and her head swam, the pain was right below her left eye, pulsing with every beat of her heart. "Got a pain med for me?"

He tossed it toward the bed and turned the chair toward her. She fumbled around the covers until she found it, and quickly tipped it back. It hit her empty stomach and spread quickly, even though it made her slightly nauseous. Leaning forward she let her hair cover her face, and the ties of her shirt fell over her shoulder. It felt like a week had passed, not just two days.

"Are you going to be okay?" Ron asked her quietly, and she looked back up at him, slightly confused.

"It's nothing, I'll be better by tomorrow." She ran her fingers gently over her left cheek.

"No," he swallowed and pinned her to the bed with a slightly embarrassed but mostly concerned look. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I think so." She gave him a sad little smile, the swelling of bittersweet longing starting to settle into her bones. She knew she would have to get used to it.

"I couldn't imagine if Hermione…" He trailed off, and then laughed a little. "Awkward conversation, I know. But, I'm worried about you."

"Thanks." She nodded, and let out a tiny sigh as she looked at her hands. Each heartbeat, now loud in her head due to the injury, seemed to be pumping unease through her. Her heart, still not quite catching up to her brain, was poised, waiting for his return, thinking it was going to be hours and not months. So sick of tears, even though she could feel them building in her stomach she looked back up at Ron. "I'll be fine."

"Right," he stood up from the chair. "And you'll be back in school in a couple days, and be too busy to even care about any of us." He walked over and offered a hand. She gladly took in and clamped down hard when the room spun around her. She needed to eat something, immediately.

"What's for dinner?"

"If you close your eyes," he started and she couldn't help the laugh that started to form. "It will taste like steak."

"I can dream, can't I?" They paused at the landing before the dinning room and he grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Can I get your opinion on something?"

He pulled out a box from his shorts, a small black velvet box. Her heart dropped into her feet, both astonished and afraid.

"Ron! No need in getting married now. Hermione's not going anywhere."

"It's a necklace." He shot off with an annoyed breath and opened the box. She took in a startled breath, her fingers slowly reaching out to touch it. It was breathtaking.

"Oh my." She took the box from his hands, and Ron seemed to visibly relax at her reaction. On a gleaming, delicate, silver chain hung something she'd never touched before, a diamond. No, it wasn't one diamond, it was seven small diamonds all placed together to look like one shining one. Set in the same gleaming kind of silver, the stones caught even the low lights of the landing and sent rainbows across the glassy surface. "Ron," she looked up at him, amazed. "This is gorgeous."

"Good. I needed to hear that." He took the box back, snapped it shut and put it back in his pocket. "It wasn't really the year for birthdays. We missed both yours and Harry's because of all that was…" he looked away, "going on. But I've never really gotten Hermione anything nice…ever. And she's leaving, and her birthday will be at school, so I just thought…" He trailed off again, his hand absently clutching the box in his pocket.

"You thought, right." She agreed. He smiled, and then she felt herself deflate. She'd missed her birthday? Her 17th birthday? She'd missed Harry's birthday? Her heart pumped out some melancholy again and she tried to push it away. "Seven diamonds for seven years?"

"What?" He looked up at her. She rolled her eyes. He had no idea.

"There are seven diamonds there. And you've known Hermione for seven years." She crossed her arms. "At least your subconscious was trying to be romantic."

"Got lucky there. Good looking out." He rolled his eyes up and tapped the side of his head with his hand.

"You should show Mum, she'll explode into tears." She thumped down the stairs and moved toward her chair. "I'll need the distraction." At that moment her Mum backed into the dining room and quickly appraised her.

"Better?"

"I'm fine. But I'm hungry; I haven't eaten in two days." She fell into her seat and glared at the table.

"It's a good thing I was there to quickly mend your face. You really did a number on it this time, Ginny." She scolded and slapped down some mashed potatoes on her plate. "I fear to think what kind of mess you'll come back as at Christmas break if you faint at even the smallest amount of pressure."

"Ron got Hermione diamonds." She quickly spit out. Ron gave her a disgruntled look, she shrugged. She'd warned him.

"Ronald?" Her Mum dropped the potato spoon in surprise; her eyes went glassy with hope.

"It's a necklace." He started, and then pulled out the box. "Don't get any ideas."

She dug into her potatoes, as her Mum cooed and cried over the jewelry.

* * *

~*~

With Ron back at the apartment, and her Mum and Dad settled into their evening tasks she snuck up to her room and shut the door. She felt filthy, and yet still didn't want to shower just yet. Her hair was wavy and crunchy from all the seawater, her skin balmy from it as well, and her body smelt like alcohol and carnival food. She wasn't ready to wash away the only tangible piece of evidence she had, no matter how disgusting. Then she spotted the jacket hanging on her chair.

First she went tearing through her desk for an empty vile, finally finding one that was far too large. It was long and thin, like a test tube, with a blue stopper on the top. She made quick work of charming it to be unbreakable, charming the lid to be uncorkable, and finally putting a locator charm on it so if she and the vile were ever separated she could get it back. Next she set her wand to the pocket and siphoned out of the pocket her pieces of Brighton Beach, gently coaxing it into the prepared vile. She topped it with the stopper, and with a steadying hand whispered,

"Reducto."

It shrank down to half the size of her palm, perfect for carrying around. She tipped it to the side watching the miniature shells and rocks, now looking like multi-colored sand, roll around. She set it on her desk and with a sigh grabbed her robe and moved to the bathroom.

* * *

~*~

She flinched for what felt like the fiftieth time that afternoon at the snapshots. Despite the fury that was waiting for her at home, despite the warning look Hermione had shot her, despite the flash of precaution her stomach had given her upon looking at the stadium, she'd gone to the game. As herself. Not disguised, not altered, not hiding, just as herself. Once they caught sight of Ron and Hermione the bulbs had not stopped flashing. She was praying it was for them.

"So they didn't have any Sugar Quills, all sold out. I got you the next best thing, Ginny." Neville squeezed through the crowd and plopped down next to her. "You still like Chocolate Frogs, right?"

"Who doesn't?" She laughed and took the small bag of goodies he was holding out for her. "Thanks again for going for the snacks, Neville. It could have possibly started a riot if any of us had gone." She flinched at the smoking purple flash.

"No problem, no problem." He settled down next to her. "I'm just happy you were able to come."

"I'm sure someone else would have gone. I bet there are some dejected classmates wishing they were in my spot." She popped the first chocolate frog into her mouth, and then pushed up the sleeves on the black jacket. A part of her had felt guilty of stealing Harry's jacket as her own, but she had grown rather fond of it, and sometimes she just wanted a big article of clothing to hide the fact that her body refused to produce fat.

"Yes, Hannah did seem a bit dejected. I'm sure she will get over it, though." He threw some jellybeans into his mouth and Ron leaned over Neville to point out into the crowd,

"Just about time!"

"Indeed, I think they're going to loose by 50 today Neville, what's your hypothesis?" She gave him a prod with her elbow as Ron sent her a thunderous look.

"Oh, 100 for sure." He goaded, and Ron turned red and put his attention back to Hermione. The lights dimmed, the flashes from all the fans and reporters filled the dark stands.

* * *

~*~

"The legacy continues." She laughed as they slowly filed out of the stadium into the bustling streets.

"Do shut up." Ron growled at her.

"It wouldn't be a Cannon's match if they actually won, Ron. You should be proud of the infamous legacy they continue to uphold." She continued, Hermione gave her a warning look. Ron lunged toward her, Neville jumped in front and grabbed him up with a sympathetic arm across his shoulders.

"It's just the first game, mate. They have to get their flying legs back. The fact that they came so close is promising." He gave Ron a giant pat on the back, and Ron begrudgingly nodded at Neville and continued to move out toward the street. They were only a few feet away when she noticed the bright flashes.

"Bloody vultures. Won't they leave us alone?" She grumbled under her breath. Neville fell back next to her and they exited the stadium to a crowd of flashes and shouted questions.

"Ginny! Ginny over her!"

"Hermione right here!"

"Ron, what do you think of the match?"

"Ginny where's Harry? Couldn't make it?"

"Give a picture for Witch Weekly ladies!"

Neville grabbed her elbow, such a familiar gesture between them that she didn't second guess it, and quickly guided her around the crowd, the photographers started moving after them. Ron flanked her other side, dragging Hermione, and she took a look back, the sea of Quidditch fans separating to let the press through.

"Shouldn't they be gawking after the players?" She hissed at Ron.

"Don't think about it. Just grab Neville and let's go back to the flat." Ron lowly said and they turned the corner into an alley. The store clerk looked up from dumping his trash, Hermione gave him an apologetic wave, and Ron and Hermione disapparated. She leaned forward until she was close enough to whisper directly into his ear and said,

"Neville, we're going to Harry's place. The password is Jello."

"Seriously?" He blanched at her.

"I know." She shook her head and grabbed his arm, trying to shut out the building noise of the mob of reporters, and praying that they would make it all in once piece. She took a deep breath, and they were gone.

"Ten fingers." He looked down at his hands.

"I think we're intact." She confirmed, looking at his face and her own hands. "Let's go." She walked up to Ron and Hermione, still waiting for the building to fall into place. Hermione was anxiously looking around them. She saw something move in the bushes, and without even thinking her hand whipped out her wand and she snapped off,

"Stupefy!"

The reporter fell out of the bushes, camera still frozen on his face, to the pavement below. The building snapped into place and they ran for the door, but she could already see them. Somehow the reporters had figured it out, and even though they couldn't see Harry's apartment or go near it, they were all around it. The four of them froze in the street, unsure what to do, run away or plow through. The moment of hesitation caused the crowd to descend upon them.

Ron pulled Hermione close, his other hand going to his wand. She felt Neville's large, warm hand wrap around her elbow juncture, his thumb pressing against the inside crook. They had seconds, Hermione pulled Ron with her to form a sort of semicircle around her and fiercely whispered into her ear,

"Don't say a word. Don't say anything. No matter what they say."

"But…" She protested.

"No comment. Just say no comment." Hermione pressed and the buzzing, flashing, hectic noise of the mob caught up with them, still in the middle of the street.

"Over here! Over here!"

"Smile ladies! Guys let's get a smile!"

"Is it true that Harry has decided to go back to Muggle living?"

"Ginny! Ginny is it true that you are carrying Harry's love child?"

"Ginny who's this? Is this a date?"

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips tight, willing the anger to pool, willing the fear to subside. They just needed to slowly inch toward the house. She could feel Neville pulling on her arm, half his body wrapping around her, protecting her, and they tried to move through the blinding flashes and honking cars on the street. When she opened her eyes back up a girl not that much older then Hermione, with frighteningly attentive gray eyes, pale skin, and shocking long black hair pushed in front of all the others and snapped her fingers. Instantly a quill floated by her head with the parchment right under it, she took a step forward and shouted above all the mayhem,

"Felicity Dagwood from Luminary Magazine. Miss Weasley is it true that Harry Potter will not be returning to Hogwarts this fall and has instead enlisted in Auror training?" She paused, and narrowed her eyes expectantly at her. Before she could even formulate any kind of response Hermione jumped in front of her,

"No comment. Ms. Dagwood." She looked down her nose at her disdainfully.

"Miss Granger, do you have any comment about your current living situation? We have your residences at both your Muggle parent's home as well as here in Diagon Alley."

Ginny swore Felicity Dagwood's eyes clouded dark for a moment, catching Hermione in a sputtering non-committal answer.

"Right, that's enough cheek out of you lady." Ron grabbed Hermione; stiff armed his way through the crowd and called over his shoulder, "Neville!"

Neville's arm wrapped around her waist and he followed quickly after Ron, pushing his way through the crowd. She looked behind them as they made it across the street and Felicity Dagwood's quill was still scribbling madly across the parchment, an evil sort of smile across her face.

"This isn't good, Neville."

"I know." He rumbled next to her, and they crossed the threshold into the stairwell for Harry's apartment. The door closed behind the four of them and she let out an audible sigh of relief, the sound of the mob outside lost behind the door.

"How did she know?" Hermione was the first one to break the silence.

"Was it really a secret?" Ron started up the stairs, everyone following. "I mean Harry never said, 'Don't tell anyone'. They were going to figure it out eventually."

"Well, he did want to keep it quiet." Hermione countered and they crossed into the entry way. "But mostly it's just smarter not to say anything. When you say something they can twist your words around."

"Wow." Neville shouted, and then said a little softer, "Wow."

"Oh, that's right." Ginny tossed Harry's jacket at the couch and moved back over toward Neville, who was standing in the entrance of the living room. "Neville, this is Ron and Harry's apartment."

"Want a drink, mate?" Ron called out from the kitchen; Hermione pulled out a chair in the dining room and sat down, a butterbeer in her hand.

"Um, sure." Neville slowly started looking around, Ginny left him to it and sat across from Hermione. Ron set down several butterbeers on the table and fell into the seat next to Hermione.

"This is only going to get worse. I'm sure being seen with Neville will only come back to haunt you, Ginny. Maybe your Mum was right. I think you should stay home the next couple of days. Once we're at Hogwarts, it will be easier."

"Easier how? No matter where I go there are going to be whispers. Its just do I want to be harassed up front, or would I rather have people laughing and talking behind my back." She angrily ripped the label off the bottle.

"At least at Hogwarts they won't have anything to put in the papers." Neville sat down with them, apparently done with his tour of the place.

"I'm sure they'll find a way." Hermione darkly commented over her drink.

"Who cares?" Ron leaned back in the chair, letting his legs catch on the table. "We know the truth. I know Hermione and I are together and she lives with her parents. I know that Ginny isn't pregnant with some love child, or cheating on Harry. We all know the truth. Isn't that enough? Why can't we just live our lives and laugh at what these idiots come up with?" He shrugged and took a drink.

"Ron's right." Neville finished off his bottle.

"You say that now." Hermione started quietly. "But just wait. You think it won't bother you. You think the lies are obviously wrong and funny. But they stop being funny sooner rather then later." She pushed away from the table moving toward the bathroom.

"Tri-Wizard Tournament." Ron commented lowly, and they both nodded. Neville was next to push away, and she stood up with Ron.

"I better go. It's late. Sorry the night took such a sour turn." Neville gave Ron a pat on the back, and Ron laughed.

"Oh, you meant the reporters!"

Neville shook his head and moved around the table back to Ginny. Quickly he pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tight to his chest. She gave him a few awkward pats on the back, and then Neville slowly let her go.

"Thanks again for coming, Ginny." He moved over to the fireplace and quickly threw some Floo in and left.

"You better be careful." Hermione's voice filled the dining room and Ron let out a bark of laughter cleaning up the bottles. He turned his back for the kitchen and she met Hermione's eyes across the room, dark and protective.

"You worry far too much, love." Ron laughed again from the kitchen, but she'd gotten the message loud and clear. It wasn't the reporters Hermione was worried about.

"I'm going home." She quietly said, Hermione disappeared around the corner again, and with a blast of green flames she was back in her living room. That's when she realized she'd forgotten the jacket.

* * *

~*~

They were spread across her bed, like a blanket, in the morning. Not exactly the nicest gesture to wake up to, but better then the horrors she knew her Mother could come up with. It was nauseating, and horribly frustrating. There were Death Eaters on the loose, several war crime trials underway, even Quidditch had started up again and yet there splashed across the front page of every newspaper and magazine in the country was her face. There she was, at the game, outside the stadium, right in front of Harry's apartment, Neville right next to her every time. Each one she looked pale and cautious, each one Neville looked worried and protective. And on each one, Hermione and Ron were somehow lost in the background.

"This is so bloody retarded!" She growled at the papers and set them on fire with her wand, covering her comforter with ash.

"I warned you." Her Mum materialized in the doorway.

"I knew that they were going to follow us. But why not pester Ron and Hermione? Why always me? Maybe I need to start a rumor of my own." She quickly flicked her wand and the ash disappeared.

"You know why, Ginny." Her Mum gave her a stern look and then went back downstairs. She fell back onto her pillows. Hogwarts could not come soon enough.

* * *

~*~

She was up to her elbows in laundry. With only a few days left before Hogwarts her Mum had set her on the horrible task of separating her entire closet into three piles: altered clothes that she was bringing, clothes that needed to be altered, and clothes that needed to be boxed away. You never threw anything out in the Weasley household, even if you were the only girl in generations. Once the stacks had been finished she had been told to wash them all, and then they would be altered or packed away into the appropriate trunk or box. They hadn't even gotten her supplies and books yet. Halfway through the afternoon she was starting to suspect that her Mum had her eyes on her room. It had the best light in the house.

"Ginny?" Someone called from her doorjamb.

"I've told you! There is only so much laundry one person should do in a day…" She looked up. "Oh, hi Hermione."

"I was stopping by to drop these off." She carefully stepped across the room and set down a stack of books on top of her unaltered but still going to Hogwarts pile. Books. She should have known.

"Thanks." She said slowly, afraid to eye the titles of the very large stack.

"It's my sixth year books. I thought you might need them." She walked away from the stacks and sat down on the bed. She did need them, since half the books she had from last year were either destroyed, missing, or useless because they were Death Eater issued. Plus, Hermione's books would have Hermione's notes, and that would make the extra two hours every day she had to devote to this 'remedial' course that much easier.

"You're a life savor!"

"It's nothing. Just wanted to help." Hermione blushed, and then fell quiet. "Did you see the papers this morning?"

"Yeah." She turned back to the closet and dug out the few remaining pieces of clothing near the bottom and back. "You don't have to say anything. I've accepted that I must become a hermit for all time now."

"Did you see the article Felicity Dagwood wrote?" Hermione continued in a bitter voice.

"I just burnt them all up." She turned back around to face her. "Why?"

"She was dead on."

"Oh my." Ginny threw the remaining shirts into the box away pile. "What did the foul woman say?"

"What she said isn't important. She was the only person that came remotely close to the truth. What's more important is how she obtained the information." Hermione frowned at the window, suddenly lost in thought.

"Spies? Gadgets? Bribes? I mean, she's a reporter, Hermione. They always find a way." The words left her mouth, but it seemed like Hermione wasn't listening. She was still looking out the window, her eyes lost somewhere. "What are you thinking?"

"What?" Hermione startled herself and looked back at Ginny. "Sorry. You're right, she's probably bribing someone to spy on us all."

"Don't think on it too much. It will drive you mad." Ginny sat down on the floor, looking at the enormous piles of clothes. She had no idea how she had accumulated so many. A desperate feeling filled her chest at the upcoming task of washing them all when Hermione pulled something out from under her pillow.

"What's this?" She held it up to the light, turning the brightly colored sand around in the bottle. Ginny's hand shot out instinctively and the bottle ripped out of Hermione's grasp and shot across the room into her palm.

"Ginny?" Hermione looked up startled.

"Sorry. Locator charm." Her hand closed around it and she let out a breath of relief. It was probably unhealthy to have such an obsession with an inanimate object, but the weariness in her chest and the anxious pulse of blood across her body seemed to calm with it close to her side. In the back of her mind a flash of the diary drudged to the surface. She'd felt the same way about that as well. Hermione was still looking at her, slightly shocked and affronted. With a pang of separation anxiety she threw the bottle back to her, the diary slowly slipping back into the dark place she kept it in her mind. She had to be more careful.

"So what is this?"

"A memory." She evaded and started shoving all the 'box away' clothes into her laundry basket.

"Alright, if you don't want to talk about it." She tossed the bottle back and stood from the bed. Hermione hesitated, but Ginny called her bluff.

"Thanks."

"I'll see you later, Ginny." Hermione marched out of the room, and she pressed the vile into her hand again. Some things didn't need to be shared.

* * *

~*~

Her room was bare. She was used to it by now, seven years of it. All of the supplies and potions and clothing, all the books and quills and parchment, all the shoes and ties and mittens, hats and trinkets, and most importantly memories had been packed away into her trunk. There were good and bad things that made minimalist, poverty driven living different. You had very little to pack or leave behind, but every single object mattered.

Her now thinning and color faded mittens had been with her since her first year. She had won many a snow war with them, and had belted Ron with a particularly beautiful, mostly ice ball to the back of the head her third year. Seven different ties, for seven very different years, along with battered and used books from both Hermione and Flourish and Blotts sat at the bottom of her trunk. A remember-all from Neville for Christmas two years ago, faintly glowing near her ink and quills made her smile. She only had one thing left to pack now, the yellow blanket, and she debated about bringing it or not.

She only had tonight. Tomorrow they would be leaving for the station and hopping on the train. Hermione had rarely come around in the last few days, either still upset about not being told about the Brighton Beach sand or too busy with Ron. She didn't want to think about either. Her Mum had kept her busy, cleaning and dusting, moping and moving, and finally patching some holes and scuffing on all her walls. She hadn't shown it at the time, but she was upset about the coo her Mum was planning on her room. It was still hers; it had been hers since birth. The ousting of Bill to house the first female Weasley had been a coo on its own. But the perfect, bare, clean walls told her she wouldn't be coming back.

"Dinner love." Her Mum softly said from the doorway. Her eyes took a small appraisal of the current state of it. "You did a lovely job on the room, Ginny."

"Guess it's time to give it back, hu?" She snapped the lid shut on her trunk. She could pack the final piece before leaving tomorrow.

"Is that what you think this was about?"

"What else could it be for?" Ginny sat on top of her trunk and her Mum sat down on her bed.

"For me. I know you're leaving, Ginny."

"For school, obviously." She retorted.

"No." He Mum gave her a sad smile. "Did you really intend on coming back to this room after you graduate?"

"Yeah." She quickly responded.

"To an empty house? With your brother's gone? When Harry has his own apartment? I didn't think you were going to come back."

The room fell silent and she took a slow breath. She hadn't really been thinking that far ahead, but when it came down to it, her Mum was right. She might have stayed at the house for a few weeks, a month at the most. But it would only be to sleep. She'd have plans after graduation, and friends to visit, and jobs to apply for, maybe even a career to start. And it would seem they both knew she would stay with Harry if he wanted her too, if she wanted too.

"I'm sorry." She met her Mum's glassy eyes.

"Oh, don't be." Mrs. Weasley looked away for a moment and dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her apron. "I expect great things from you. You're so strong and smart, and resilient, Ginny."

"Thanks, Mum." She looked away, slightly embarrassed but suddenly burning with love and pride.

"Now, I made your favorite's for your goodbye dinner. Your Father and I are waiting." She stood up from the bed and outstretched her arm. Quickly she enveloped her in a warm hug and let go. "No squash, I promise."

"Thank Merlin for that!" She laughed, and her Mum left her alone again, in the empty room. She closed her eyes and tried to bring up an image of what it had looked like, what it had represented. A warm, glowing, happy, eventful slue of memories passed in front of her eyes, leaving a smile on her face. When she opened them back up, the room was dark, empty, and cold. It was too bittersweet to stay. She stood up and moved for the door. She needed to keep moving forward.

* * *

~*~

_She was at the beach, Brighton Beach, looking for Harry. She covered her eyes from the blinding sun and tried to look up and down the pier. There were so many people it was overwhelming, and they all looked like shadows. Faceless, black, and in a hurry shadows. There was this kind of panic in the air. She couldn't tell if it was because everyone seemed to be running, or if she couldn't find Harry, but the shadows continued to run. She heard muffled shouting, the crowd around her seemed to freeze, and then slowly part. One by one they pulled from each other to reveal a faceless witch, wand outstretched, and a flash of green light._

_ She tried to dodge it, unable to make her hands move fast enough, but it hit her chest, she felt the weight of it push her toward the floor, and when she landed she was in Teddy's room. It was dark, quiet, with low music playing somewhere. Teddy was fast asleep in his crib and she moved across the floor, silently, to get a better look at him. Suddenly Teddy's eyes snapped open, and she took a startled breath backward._

_ "Where is he?" He demanded, his voice that of a man's. She knew she should be screaming, but she couldn't._

_ "Who? Harry?"_

_ "Where is he?" Teddy demanded again, and she started backing up from his crib. She tripped over a toy, and started falling, falling forever, never seeming to hit the ground. Finally she hit the floor with a thud and opened her eyes to see herself on the large frothing rock before the entrance to the cave. She looked through the fog and rain and the dark, ominous cave loomed before her, glowing with a frightening blue light from within. She started slipping and sliding around, feeling her fingers strain and nails break as she tried to get a grip. It was almost as if the rock was trying to toss her off into the angry ocean. Her feet plunged into the sea, she realized she was barefoot; the water was like ice, some how her feet had broken through the coldest water in existence. It made them cramp and then burn, and then feel weightless._

_ She clawed at the rock again, trying, what seemed like in vain, to keep herself above the water. Her calves went in next, and the clothing she was wearing billowed around her for a moment, a light grey dress. Layers and layers of grey soaked in the water and started to weigh her down. Her thighs cramped, her arms ached with the effort of trying to keep herself afloat. She was panting and panicking, trying to move back toward the slippery surface. Her eyes frantically searched around for anyone to help her, anyone at all, but she was in the middle of the ocean, her fingers lost their grip, her breath froze in her throat as she plunged under the water, and she opened her eyes to see the surface slowly sink away._

_ Suddenly a hand pulled her from the water with such force that she felt like she was flying through the air, and then landed in an open field. She was still sopping wet, shaking with cold, and alert with panic. As far as her eyes could see were swaying fields of wheat. It stretched on for miles and miles, but she was sitting in a perfect circle of dirt. The wind ripped through, and it was oddly warm. The wheat parted and Dean stepped out and looked at her in horror._

_ "What are you going to do?" _

_ "What?" She pushed up to her knees, but it felt awkward and strange, something was in her hand. Still dripping with seawater, her dress sticking to her body she looked up at Dean again, but he was slowly moving back into the wheat, more scared then she had ever seen him._

_ "What are you going to do, Ginny?"_

_She looked down at her hands, and she was holding a very large knife. It clattered to the dirt, and she realized she was covered in blood. She looked to her left and then her right and her breath choked in her throat. Neville was to her right, Harry was to her left, and they were both dead. She had stabbed them both through the heart. She bent her head down, trying to scream or cry anything to shake the nightmare, she started falling through black, empty space, and then with a start she landed in her bed._

Her chest heaving, tears streaming down her face, she pinched herself as hard as she could on her arm. It hurt, and relief pulsed through her. It was a dream; it was only a horrible, horrible dream. She grabbed her face in her hands and let the last few tears of distress fall. The sun was rising in her windows, and her alarm was going to go off in an hour. She pulled the yellow blanket closer to herself, it burnt with heat, and then pulled it up over her head, creating a warm cocoon. She didn't know how he'd done it, but her blanket was always warm.

"What the hell was that about?" She huffed to herself and, tried to lie back down for a fitful last hour of sleep.

* * *

~*~

The huge plume of white smoke rose in the air, obscuring most of the buildings behind the Hogwarts Express. She was just standing around now. Ron and Hermione were close together, his hand running over her hair, murmuring things to her that would make her bite her lip or laugh. She turned away and looked out at the smattering of families, as the train blew its whistle again.

"I think it's time to go, dear." Her Mum pulled her into a hug and fixed her sweater with a dewy look in her eye. "My final child, my baby, about to graduate from Hogwarts. I thought this day would never come." She patted her sweater down flat against her shoulders and smiled.

"I won't let you down, Mum." She grinned, trying to keep her composure. She just wanted to get on the train so the year would start and quickly be over.

"You never do, love." She hugged her again, and Ginny felt a hitch start in her chest. This really was the end of an era, bittersweet in and of itself. Before the tears could move up toward her face she squeezed her back and pulled away.

"I'll see you soon."

"Bye, Ginny." Her Mum gave her a final pat, and then let her go. The train blew its whistle long and hard and she slung her backpack over her shoulder and picked up her trunk.

"Come on Hermione. Let's go!" She yelled over to the two of them, still absorbed in each other. They didn't seem to hear her, so she drug her trunk over and stopped with a huff in front of them. "Honestly, it's not like you won't see him the first weekend out. I know you transferred to Hogsmead, Ron."

"Can you give me a minute?" He grumbled and shot her a nasty look.

"You've already had fifteen." She crossed her arms.

"Don't get bitter because no one's here to kiss you goodbye." He snapped back and turned to Hermione for some final nauseating words. She let out a frustrated growl and started pulling her trunk toward the train. Hermione could find her; she wasn't going to wait around any longer.

Most of the train was full, kids running up and down the aisles, jumping in and out of compartments, chatting and yelling at each other. Yet, as she passed each compartment it would suddenly fall silent, and explode in whispers as she left. She had prepared herself, but it still got under her skin. She looked forward and continued to drag her trunk with her toward the back.

"Ginny!" She heard several people yell out in the sporadic mix of bustle and silence. Dean, Seamus, Neville, and Luna were all waiting for her in the last back compartment. Her face broke out in a real smile and she lugged her trunk the last few yards. Seamus grabbed her trunk, Luna offered her a chocolate frog, and Neville gave her a hug as she was pulled into the compartment, the door closing on all the gossip and whispers. For the first time she felt at ease.

"Hey everyone!" She laughed and fell into a seat between Seamus and Luna.

"So good of you to make an appearance." Dean teased her.

"Don't give me that." She shook her head disapprovingly but smiled.

"Me Mum wouldn't stop talking about you when you splashed your face all over the papers, Ginny." Seamus took the next dig.

"Not my choice." She laughed and elbowed him in the side.

"Your turn Neville." She smirked.

"Oh, I was thinking something along the lines of," he trailed off and then gave her a brilliant smile, "Don't think you and your ego can fit in this compartment, too famous now."

"That's just bad." She laughed.

"That was the best you could come up with?" Dean shook his head, disappointed.

"He's right, though. You are far too famous to be seen with us now." Luna piped up next to her.

"Not you too Luna!" She screeched out, and everyone started laughing. Luna gave her arm a squeeze and smiled. "It's good to be back."

"We're glad you came back!" Dean tossed her a box of Every Flavor Beans.

"I wonder what horrible adventure you'll get us into this year, you two." Seamus reached across the compartment and took the box of jellybeans from her, eyeing both Neville and herself.

"No adventures!" She quickly said and stole the box back. "Just a nice, easy, quiet year."

"Does that even exist at Hogwarts?" Neville voiced and everyone laughed again as the train started moving and the compartment door opened to Hermione. She looked like she was holding her breath. Biting her lip, and glancing quickly around the small space she swallowed hard and waited.

"Well, come in, Hermione, don't stand there drooling!" Seamus jumped up and grabbed her trunk.

"Thanks." She quietly said and slid into the seat next to Dean. Ginny smiled, but felt bad. She should have waited. She was the only close friend Hermione had now. Sure, she knew plenty of people, but she wasn't friends with anyone. She didn't have time to make friends when Harry and Ron were always keeping her busy.

"I think," Ginny started and the whole compartment looked at her, waiting. She'd forgotten the kind of presence she used to command last year without Harry around. "That we should set the reporters on Hermione's trail now. Share the spotlight, and all that."

"Please don't. I'll leave all that to you." Hermione blushed. The compartment burst out laughing. Hermione looked confused, and Ginny gave her a sympathetic smile.

"It would appear that I am going to be the butt of all the jokes this year."

"You act like you weren't before!" Seamus threw some beans at her.

"Ah, I just let you all jab at me to keep moral high." She ducked at the second handful of beans and looked over at Hermione. She seemed very uncomfortable, almost out of place amidst their ruckus taunting and joking. Ginny didn't really know what to do. Almost everyone in the compartment but Hermione now shared a very tight bond, one that only disaster and life threatening situations tend to form, each one holding their own piece of the war, each having their own scars from their efforts. Hermione did as well, just in a very different sort of way.

"So how many NEWTS are you planning on getting this year, 'Mione?" She turned the conversation to somewhere she knew Hermione might be comfortable with.

"I'm not sure." She smoothed her hands down her jeans.

"Why?" Neville leaned over Dean to look at her.

"I don't know how many classes they'll let me take." She answered like it was the only viable answer there was. Everyone started laughing again, and Dean put a supportive arm over Hermione's shoulders.

"You're going to have to loosen up a bit if you're going to stick with us this year. I'm happy to report that thanks to you, and Ron and Harry there will be no need for brooding and danger this term."

Ginny shook her head at Dean and tossed a handful of beans at him. But Hermione nodded, and then relaxed back into the seat, Dean retracted his arm, and she said over the low bustle of the car,

"Did you all hear about the night Ron, Harry, George and Ginny got drunk in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?"

The compartment fell silent, all eyes on Hermione, Ginny kept her face straight and annoyed, and then Seamus fumbled out,

"Well get on with it then! This has got to be good!"

The compartment broke apart in laughter for a moment and then Hermione took a breath, her cheeks flushed, and started in on the story.

"It was two in the morning…"

* * *

~*~

Author's Notes:

Thanks going out to friendsofhagrid for all her wonderful help. And a special thanks to all my REVIEWERS! You guys are amazing, you keep me going, and all your words of encouragement and excitement over the story have made this all worth it. Thank you again!

On a sad note friendsofhagrid's computer took a dive toward the hard, unforgiving ground. So please accept my apologies for any glaring errors this chapter, I just didn't have the time to sift through it all. And please consider this chapter your Holiday present, because it looks like we won't have another one up until after the New Year.

Happy Holidays to you and yours, and a very merry 2010!


	16. Chapter 16

**Ghost of You**

**A/N:** Hi Everyone! I was going to wait until I got my formal edit back, (so please excuse anything glaring and horrible) but you have all been so kind and generous with your pleading! So here it is! Hope you didn't think I abandoned you!

* * *

~Chapter 16~

_How come I end up where I started?  
How come I end up where I went wrong?  
I won't take my eyes off the ball again  
First you reel me out and then you cut the string_

_15 Steps by Radiohead_

* * *

~*~

She took another big gulp of tea and looked around the Great Hall, vaguely aware of the Sorting ceremony still taking place up near the front.

"Hufflepuff!"

Everyone gave a small round of applause and waited as the next trembling first year made their way up.

"They just look so tiny." Hermione observed. "Did we look that tiny?"

"I'm sure we did." She yawned.

"Ravenclaw!"

"There aren't that many Slytherin's this year. Not too many being sorted, either." Neville mumbled to the two of them.

"I didn't really expect all that many of them." Hermione picked through her food. "Hopefully their numbers will rise as the years go on."

She eyed Neville giving Hermione the same look she was.

"Gryffindor!"

They all absently clapped as the toe-head blonde girl skipped over to the table.

"Don't look at me like that. There are qualities and attributes about people that are sorted into Slytherin that are essential to the functionality of the Wizarding world. We can't just have a bunch of nerve minded Gryffindor's running the place."

"Ravenclaw!"

"Are you saying that we should have more Draco Malfoy's in the world?" Neville pointed his turkey leg at Hermione, waving it in a very accusatory sort of way.

"Of course not. He's evil."

"Not evil, just confused." Ginny shot in. "That's what Harry told me." She amended when they both glared at her.

"Ginny, please!" Neville laughed.

"I mean he's not walking around making friends and handing out Mai Tai's with green umbrellas in them, but he's not evil. No one is rarely _just_ evil." She shot them both a disgruntled look and took another gulp of tea.

"Hufflepuff!"

"Too many Hufflepuff's this year!" Neville grumbled and looked back down at his food.

"Ginny's right, no one is just one thing. But the balance of the school depends on people being sorted into all four houses. I think I've only heard two Slytherin's being sorted this year. And let's face it; we all knew half that house wasn't coming back." Hermione stopped and looked up at the silky headed brunette at the front. She had a confidant smile on her face, almost haughty. Ginny laughed,

"Two Knuts she's a Slytherin, Neville."

"Deal." He smiled at her.

"For goodness sake," Hermione scolded.

"Slytherin."

There was a bit of a delayed reaction to the round of applause, even the Slytherin table didn't seem ready. But she sauntered over to table and settled down. Neville threw the money down onto the wood and McGonagall stood up, the Great Hall falling into a hush.

"Good evening and welcome. I'm so happy to see some familiar faces, as well as the new ones we have just sorted. I have a few short announcements to make. I'd like to welcome and introduce the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Belinda Ransach. She will also be the head of house for Gryffindor." McGonagall paused and started clapping. The rest of the Hall filled in with polite applause. Ginny took a good look at her: long brown hair, soft pale skin, but a sort of fire behind her eyes. Ransach gave a small wave to the crowd, and smiled toward the Gryffindor table and McGonagall brought up a hand to stop the noise. "Miss Ransach comes to Hogwarts from the Ministry of Magic. She was a historian and record keeper, with an extensive knowledge of Dark Arts through the ages."

"And she's a Gryffindor?" Ginny whispered to Hermione. Hermione gave a playful slap to her arm, continuing to look forward.

"I would also like to introduce the new Transfiguration teacher, Abbacus Turnsdale." There was an audible gasp and mummer that shot through the crowd as the blond man stood and waved briefly, flashing a giant grin to the whole group. Ginny thought he looked familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "Mr. Turnsdale comes to us from the Montrose Magpies. Let's please give a round of applause to both the new teachers to our school."

McGonagall stepped away from the podium for a moment to clap and smile at the teachers and then got right back down to business.

"Quidditch tryouts are next week. If you are interested in playing for your house please sign up in your common rooms and wait for further instructions. As always please stay away from the Forbidden Forrest, and please respect the curfew that is still in effect." She paused and looked out at all the students for a moment, a bright smile on her face but a lost sort of sadness to her eyes. "Have a wonderful year."

She stepped down and Ginny felt it as well. So this is what Hogwarts was like without Dumbledore. Last year she'd had enough white-hot fury within her that it didn't matter that it was Snape and not Dumbledore. This year…her hand closed around the shell bottle in her robes, and she gave it a squeeze.

* * *

~*~

They had ambled up to the common room, far behind Hermione and Dean ushering the first years around.

"So you're trying out for Quidditch?" Neville bumped her with his hip and she sighed at him,

"You know I have to."

"Just checking. You know you don't have to. It was more a suggestion."

"I'm sure Jenna wouldn't care if I ended up not trying out." She hopped over the trick step. "But my brothers would find some way to hex me into it if I didn't. We're talking over two decades of a Weasley on the house team here."

"Do you think you'll be Captain?" Neville paused behind the line of people moving through the portrait hole.

"No." She laughed a little. "I'm sure they'll pick someone else."

"Ginny," Neville gave her a reassuring pat between her shoulders as they inched up the line. "Who else is there?"

"Ginny!" Dean called out over the bustle and giggled shouting. She looked up as he jogged over, Neville dropped his hand. "Ransach wants to see you."

"Already?"

Both boys laughed but she turned around and went back down the hall weaving in and out of clusters of students with heavy whispers following in her wake. She took a steadying breath before she knocked.

"Come in." She stepped through the threshold.

"You wanted to see me Professor?"

"Ginevra Weasley! I see you received my message from Dean." She set down the stack of papers she was looking through and stood up from her desk. Piles and piles of books were shoved into corners and up against the walls of the small office. There was a bright, happy sort of feeling in the room.

"Yes."

"I had an extensive meeting with Head Mistress McGonagall when I accepted the position of Head of Gryffindor House. She informed me that I should speak to you right away about the prospects for the team this year." She gave her a big smile and leaned against her desk. Crossing her arms she gave Ginny a probing look.

"Much of the team is gone. Dean might be a good option but he's Head Boy this year. He might be too busy. I don't really know many of the younger year students. We'd have to wait and see until tryouts who would be good for the team."

"Excellent. Seems McGonagall knew what she was talking about, she said most of the same things." Ginny looked at Ransach again, that kind of slap happy smile across her face. Then she suddenly jumped up from the desk. "I almost forgot. Here you go." She swished her wand and a dark maroon jacket floated over to her. In sparkling gold lettering it stared up at her, Captain. Ransach held it out and then frowned,

"Might have to make it a bit smaller. So what position are you going to play this year?"

"I'm n..not sure." She stammered and looked back down at the jacket. "Usually I play Chaser, but I've been Seeker before as well."

"Seeker." Ransach rolled the word around on her tongue for a moment, almost like she was testing it out for the first time. "I'm sure you'll do well in whatever position you play. Just let me know if you need any help with all this tryout business." She smiled big again and started moving toward her chair.

"Thank you Professor." She mumbled and started backing out of the room, trying to be discreet but also moving as fast as she could.

"I'll see you in class!" She almost hummed with happiness and Ginny quickly shut the door and took off down the hall. She spit out the password and stumbled through the door into a bustling common room.

"Captain Weasley!" Seamus shouted, and the room erupted in claps and cheers. Hermione ran at her and wrapped her into a bear hug.

"Congratulations, Ginny!"

"I didn't do anything." She said in a muted voice. The room was still jumpy and high with emotion and nerves from the first day. Seamus and Neville were thumping her on the back with support.

"Oh, you'll have your work cut out for you!" Seamus laughed and then walked away. Neville and Hermione were beaming with excitement. While the shock hadn't worn off yet, she was still feeling slightly uneasy about the whole situation.

"Why me? I mean she could have picked anyone."

"No, McGonagall told her to pick you." Hermione amended.

"Makes sense now." She flopped down onto the couch, a few first years scattered with whispers and giggles. "I don't think she knows anything about Quidditch."

"Probably not." Neville sat down next to her, Hermione settled into the armchair.

"I didn't want it handed to me. I thought I'd at least have to try out." She unrolled the jacket and appraised it.

"Ginny stop thinking so hard and enjoy the moment will you." Neville laughed and crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head in a sort of exasperated kind of way.

"You're right." She grinned and tossed the jacket onto the arm of the couch. Another group of whispering, giggling first years passed and a flash of annoyance crossed her chest. Hopefully the novelty of Hermione and herself would wear off fast.

"You should let Harry know you're Captain, I'm sure he'll be thrilled." Hermione laughed, and the annoyance turned into a worried anger. She clenched her teeth and looked down at her hands. Neville added,

"I bet Harry and Ron and sitting there worrying about who was made Captain this year right now."

"They're not." She huffed. "Ron is most likely drinking with George. And no one knows where Harry is, least of all me." She grabbed the jacket into her hands and balled up the fabric in her fists.

"Of course." Hermione muttered and looked into the fire.

"Sorry," she stood up. "I'm going to bed."

"Goodnight. I'll be up there later." Hermione gave her a half smile.

"See you tomorrow." Neville added and she shuffled toward the stairs. The jacket fell out of her hands halfway up and she heard Neville's low voice over the hum,

"Is she going to be like this all year?"

"Probably." Hermione answered.

"Lovely." Neville huffed. She snatched up the jacket and raced up the final steps.

* * *

~*~

First morning back and she already had owl's waiting for her: one from her Mum, one from Jenna's secretary to confirm the appointment a month away, two deliveries of papers, and a final bird that dropped off a tiny unmarked package.

"Open it!" Hermione smiled and finished off a piece of toast.

"I don't know. Maybe it's something I'm supposed to do in private." She eyed the small package again, sitting between her juice and tea.

"Perhaps." Hermione paused. They didn't have to wonder who it was from, it was wordlessly understood. "But I don't think it's anything embarrassing."

"Define embarrassing." She lowly mumbled as Neville and Seamus sauntered into the hall. Breakfast was close to over, students just milling about waiting for the bell. She scanned the paper quickly, nothing new, and tossed it over to Hermione.

"So what's in the package?" Seamus pointed to the neatly wrapped box.

"I don't know." She eyed the brown packaging paper and straw bow. Obviously the delivery service had wrapped it, she didn't think Harry had the skill or will to wrap presents.

"Open it!" Neville smiled and a few people started to turn toward them, still in conversation to see. "Come on! We need some excitement."

"What could it hurt, Ginny? I'm sure it's nothing too dangerous." Seamus grinned and stabbed some cold eggs. Now most of the table was looking. She felt her chest flush under her robes. Great, now she was going to turn bright red, as well as have the entire hall's attention.

"What seems to be the commotion? Oh, Ginny, you have a gift." Luna brightly said and sat down next to her. She felt the blush creep up toward her cheeks and gave a sideway glance at Hermione. She just shrugged her shoulders and looked back at the paper.

"Great lot of help you are." She mumbled and then grabbed the box in her hand.

"Alright!" Seamus started clapping, and all eyes turned to her. She pulled the straw bow, it fell to her discarded breakfast, and then faster then she had expected the package grew and grew, and then the paper fell away to reveal a shiny, brand new, Cleansweep Eleven. As the gasps and gossip started she saw the tiny note fall down onto her plate. Written in a very familiar scrawl she read,

_Consider us even. –H  
_

Despite everyone looking at her, despite the obvious rush of blood to her face, despite the stupid grin that Hermione was giving her, she grabbed the note, closed her eyes, and smiled. The broom was still lying across the table, everyone touching it and admiring it, but all she wanted was the note. She folded it up and quickly stuffed it into her robes.

"Who's this from, then?" Seamus shouted above the murmur.

"No comment." She grinned, and all her friends burst out into laughter despite the confused looks on all the other Gryffindor's faces. The bell rang and everyone dispersed.

* * *

~*~

"Now, I know that you all have a heavy load to begin with. A full year of regular classes, perhaps extra curricular activities, maybe even being selected as Prefects, makes a normal year busy enough. But, I expect only the best out of each one of you and I will settle for nothing less." McGonagall paused in front of the class, eyeing each one of them. "I am proud to see so many faces here. It takes a distinct type of character to take on a task such as this. I am here to assist you, I am sure several of these topics are going to be review, and with that note let us begin." She turned back toward the board and with a flick of her wand the chalk started madly writing across the surface.

She flipped open Hermione's books and set them all on top of each other, creating a stack that almost hid her, much like the rest of the class. She picked up her quill and started scratching down the notes on the board, still being written at a frightening speed.

"We are going to be moving at a fast clip. The entire course load from your sixth year will be covered. We will be splitting the courses into two groups. And within those groups there will be sub-groups. The first group is your core classes, group A. The second group is your elective classes, group B. Now, with the start of last year several of you had taken on electives. I understand that the pressure of this workload would make you believe you should drop all electives and just focus on your studies." The class started nodding with eyes wide and fearful. "However, I expect that you continue on with the elective you choose should they fit into the classes that are preparing you for your NEWTS."

Ginny felt her head spin. Wasn't it enough to have to take all the core classes? Why did they have to take electives as well? Her hand started cramping as she continued to half listen and half write down what was on the board. The chalk fell to the floor as a tiny nub, and McGonagall glanced at it briefly before continuing on.

"Monday, Wednesday, and Friday shall be the following courses: Astronomy, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, History of Magic, Potions, and Transfiguration. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday," McGonagall paused as the entire class let out a groan of insubordination, "will be: Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, and Muggle Studies. I will be meeting individually with each one of you to discuss the electives you shall be taking, and how that is going to coincide with your NEWTS." McGonagall looked down at her desk and started flipping open several different books. Ginny glanced to her side at Luna who had a glazed look in her eyes. It made her feel a tiny bit better. If even a Ravenclaw felt overwhelmed she wasn't alone.

"I will be calling you up today, one by one to discuss your options. While I am in conference I expect you to start working. This isn't going to be a class that has lecture every day. I will be assigning the pages and homework to be done, you will work on it in class, and if I see a need to go more in depth on the subject we will stop and review. If you have already written down what is on the board then you may proceed." She looked down at her list and cleared her throat. "Ginny Weasley."

"Of course I'm first." She grumbled and pushed away from the desk. McGonagall conjured a chair, gestured toward it, and then when she sat down waved her wand and a protective bubble surrounded them.

"Miss Weasley, you have a lot on your plate this year."

"Yes, Head Mistress." She automatically answered.

"So far I have you down for the regular 7th year work load of core classes, Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor, you have special dispensation to leave the campus once a month for your meetings, this classes set of core classes, and of course your electives. We've given leniency to some of the returning students in regards to the core classes. But when it comes to electives we are being more selective." McGonagall pulled out a slip of paper and examined it closely for a moment. "I see that you have received an O in Care of Magical Creatures as well as Muggle Studies. I also show an E in Divination. All of your core classes were passed with an E or O. You have the makings of a bright future. Limitless possibilities. It would seem you are taking after Bill and Percy." McGonagall stopped and smiled at her.

"Thank you Head Mistress." She pulled at her tie.

"What do you want to do with your future, Miss Weasley?" McGonagall implored and then sat back in her chair, waiting for a response.

"Ummm…" She started and then fell silent. "I'm not sure."

"You could work for the Ministry, you could be an Auror, you could even be a professor, your Charm's work is impressive." McGonagall prompted.

"Thank you." She whispered and felt her heart start thumping in her chest.

"But what is it that has grabbed your passion? Each of your brothers, in their own way, has found a passion and excelled at it. What is yours?"

"I…I…don't know." She stammered.

"Surely there must be something." McGonagall gave her a measured look.

"Honestly, Head Mistress, I'm just trying to keep it together most days. This summer really took it out of me, and I'm very nervous about my," she lowered her voice even though they were in confidence, "condition getting in the way of finishing the year. I didn't have a moment this summer to really think about what I wanted out of my life. I'm only 17."

"Well put, Miss Weasley." McGonagall carefully looked her over, and then took a slow, long breath. "This is what I propose. I would like for you to continue with the three classes you received OWLS in. It is a heavy workload, but it will set you up for several different options when you finally do make your choice."

"I," she started to protest, but one firm look from McGonagall made her bite her tongue and sigh, "of course."

"That's settled, then. I'm sure Miss Granger will be a wonderful asset for you this year." McGonagall smiled and released the bubble.

"She better be." Ginny mumbled and stood.

"Luna Lovegood." McGonagall voiced next, her and Luna exchanged a overwhelmed glance, and she sat down at their table and focused on her work.

* * *

~*~

It hit her like a sack of brick's. Upon fleeing her class with McGonagall, fumbling with an ungodly stack of books, and a misbehaving cloak, she stopped momentarily and caught a gold glitter out of the corner of her eye. The breath left her chest in a whoosh, and her world went silent. Eyes focused on only the small placard embedded into the wall she filtered through the hustling crowd of students milling about for their next class. She felt her books fall from her hands, but didn't hear the loud crack they made.

_In Memory of:_

_Fred Weasley_

_For his noble and selfless acts of bravery_

_in defense of Hogwarts on May 2, 1998._

She felt the breaths come fast and short in her chest. Her fingers reached out to the bright, shining gold. It was almost as if it was illuminated from behind, making it stand out among the newly rebuilt castle wall. Her fingers were slightly shaky as they ran over the raised dedication, and then she slowly removed her hand. The hallway started coming back into focus, whispers of concern and worry bouncing and echoing off the walls. Then she felt cold hands wrap around her upper arms and steady her.

"Are you going to pass out?" Hermione lowly whispered.

"No." She continued to look at the inscription over and over again, but not seeing the words anymore.

"You need to lie down." Hermione put an arm over her shoulder and she was vaguely aware of her books lifting from the floor where they had been scattered about. Everything started to darken around the corners. "Breathe, Ginny."

She took a quick breath and then they started moving. Past the clusters of whispers, past the rubbernecks, and mercifully into an empty classroom, she couldn't have endured the long walk back to the common room. Hermione, with a strong grip, helped her up onto one of the tables and then pushed her down. Laying flat, in the silence, she started to gain the control back.

"When? When did they do that?" It was the first in a slew of questions that started to bombard her brain.

"When you were in the hospital." Hermione quietly answered and put the back of her hand against her forehead.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" She pushed her hand away, even though the coolness of it had ebbed away the flush across her body.

"I thought Harry had." Hermione swallowed hard and gave her a sympathetic look. "He told us he would."

"What else did Harry not tell me?" She grit out through her teeth, and sat up. The sudden anger making the weary pulse fade. "What else is here, Hermione?"

"There is the memoriam for Fred in that hallway. There is a dedication to Snape and to Harry behind the teachers at the head table. They kept up the Dumbledore's Army graffiti on the wall, and there is a placard there as well." Hermione held her breath and looked away.

"I supposed I was sick for all this?" She clenched her jaw.

"Yes." Hermione quietly answered.

"I wrote that graffiti, you know. It was me." She locked eyes with Hermione.

"I know. That's what the placard says." Hermione evenly responded.

"Why did he keep this from me?" The anger blared in her chest and she jumped off the table.

"He wasn't even here for it, Ginny. He stayed with you that day." Hermione sat down on top of one of the tables and watched her pace, back and forth.

"Couldn't even go to a bloody dedication ceremony? And he thinks I have hang ups about Hogwarts." She grumbled more to herself then anything. "This would have been something very useful to know. Something I needed to know so I don't cause a bloody scene my first day back. If I knew where he was….oh the howler he would receive. Maybe I should send a bird anyway, it might take months, but it would be worth every Knut."

"Don't be too angry at him. I'm sure he had his reasons." Hermione quietly said.

"Fat lot of good it did me." She snapped back, and pulled out the vile, spinning it around in her palm with her fingers.

"What is that? Are you ever going to tell me?" Hermione's sharp eyes zeroed in on her fist, she clenched it tight.

"A memory."

"You're just as bad as him." She huffed, her cheeks blushing slightly with anger. "Fine, don't tell me, I'm sure you have your reasons." She snapped and grabbed her books. "We're going to be late."

Silently they moved through the corridor and out into the emptying halls, making it just in time to her first 7th year class, Charms.

* * *

~*~

It spread like wildfire: fast, hot, and unstoppable. All they could do was watch it burn from table to table, and hope, that at one point, there would be nothing left for the destructive gossip to eat up. Even with their slight tiff, Hermione was still a pillar of strength and authority. All gossip would hiss to a stop when she'd pass, and her eyes would snap to the groups of students, making them part immediately and take off down the corridor. It was momentary relief, because as soon as they turned the corner she could hear their muted words start up again. She felt weary, and irritated all at the same time, and now it was lunch.

"Alright, Ginny?" Seamus was the first to console her, with a quick squeeze.

"I'm fine." She set her books down.

"I heard, need anything?" Dean was the next, leaning over the table to keep his voice low.

"I'm fine." She plopped down in her seat, Hermione next to her. Neville quickly filled the empty seat. He didn't say anything, which made the building explosion boil just below the surface, but then he started filling her plate with food without even asking. She ripped the salad tongs out of his hand, salad flying down the table and smacking several people in the face with croutons and carrot slivers, and then threw them back into the bowl.

"Don't treat me like a baby. I was blindsided. I will be fine." She growled at him, and felt the whole table pause and hold their breath, as if waiting for the next flare of licking flame to ignite another burst of potential gossip.

"Alright, Ginny." Neville said very evenly, and then looked back at his own plate. She could tell Hermione was staring at her out of the corner of her eye, but she took a breath and forced herself to eat.

"Don't you think it's nice to have an open period first thing in the morning, Dean?" Hermione said over a forkful of potato salad.

"Yes and no. I'd like to sleep in, but then it throws off the whole day." He slowly replied and then took a bite of sandwich. The table seemed to deflate with rejection, no new gossip to report. She continued to shovel the food in as best as she could, but her hands were shaking with repressed anger and tears. She tried to take a sip of juice and it sloshed all over her plate. Neville and Hermione's hands both dropped their food and went to move, but then both stopped. She pushed her plate away and stood.

"I'm not hungry." She picked up her books and slung them over her shoulder, feeling, this time, everyone's curious eyes follow her out the door, even her friend's.

* * *

~*~

She shuffled to the Defense room long before anyone else would get there. At least it was quiet and didn't have gawking eyes. She swung open the door and was face to face with Professor Ransach.

"Oh, Miss Weasley. Is lunch over already?" She set down the book she had been reading and stood. She was a small woman, Ginny observed, maybe just a few inches taller then herself. She also looked ridiculous in the formal robes all the professors wore. She got the distinct feeling that Ransach wasn't too happy about the dress code herself, but soldiered on for the sake of keeping her job. She wondered what the woman wore in her spare time.

"No," she said after a moment. "I just wasn't hungry." She lamely offered. "I can go, sorry."

"No, no, no," she wove her hand and gestured to the empty tables. "Please stay, if you'd like. It must be difficult to get a moment to yourself here."

"Thanks." She was grateful, if not alarmed that Ransach was aware of the gossip and whispers. She set down her belongings on a table near the back and started taking out all the appropriate things.

"How has your first day been, Miss Weasley? You do look a little put out." Ransach sat back down at her desk and implored her with feeling brown eyes.

"A little difficult, but nothing I can't manage." She finished with her set up and looked over at the Professor. "Thanks, though."

"It must be hard, with no family here to support you, or your boyfriend." Ransach gave her a sad smile, but her eyes danced with that fire she'd seen on the first night. Ginny instantly felt a pang of alarm jolt through her stomach. She had a choice to make. It was now very apparent that Ransach knew more about her than necessary. Most teachers only paid attention enough to student's grades and moods, not family and relationships. Granted, she was in a high profile relationship, but it shouldn't have mattered, or even been addressed by a teacher. And she was straight from the Ministry, which history had taught her never amounted to anything good. So, was the woman dangerous, or was she just as bad as everyone else? She decided to err on the side of caution.

"I do miss my brothers. But I have several close friends." She gave her a small smile, the best fake one she could muster, as her pulse quickened. Ransach smiled back,

"Of course."

The air in the room changed; sparked, hummed with an intensity she hadn't felt since Umbridge. This woman was potentially very, very dangerous. She didn't quite know how yet, or why, but something was wrong. Ransach continued to give her a warm smile with fiery eyes, never wavering from her, as if watching would make some truth spill out.

"Ginny?" Neville's head popped through the door and she had never been happier to see him. The stand off between them dissolved and she hit her hip on the desk in an effort to move as quickly as possible across the room.

"Neville!"

"Look, I'm sorry, I overstepped my bounds at lunch. I just wanted to help, you know, like this summer. You seem…" He continued to blather on at the doorway, and she grabbed his arm and yanked him out, feeling the ever present eyes of Ransach following them out the door.

"Do shut up." She hissed and tugged him around the corner. She looked around them before adding, "The woman's evil."

"What?" Neville dropped his book bag in surprise. "Come on."

"No. I don't know how, or why yet, but she's creepy, Neville." She implored grabbing hold on his arm tighter.

"In the five minutes you spent with her, she's suddenly evil? It's just because she doesn't like Quidditch, right?" He laughed.

"No," she grabbed the front of his robes in her fists. "Evil."

"Ginny," he carefully pried her hands off his chest, "let's at least give her one class before we pass judgment like that."

"Ugh!" She huffed, still feeling the panic throbbing in her stomach.

"You've had a rough day, and it's only lunch. Just calm down and think about this logically." He bent down and picked up his bag, his shoulder brushing against her, making her realize just how close they were. When he stood back up he put a calming hand on her shoulder and she felt herself relax. "I know you have a reason to think a DADA teacher is evil, we all do, but give the lady a chance. She seemed fine to me."

"You were always a horrible judge of character." She grinned up at him. "Look at the company you keep."

"You're right, guess I just have a thing for trouble." He lightly laughed.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." A voice broke through and they both turned to see Ransach in the hallway, her eyes darting back and forth between them, a slight smile across her face. "I need to get a book from my office. I just thought you should know I'm leaving for a moment."

"Thanks." Neville's hand squeezed her shoulder, and she nodded. They watched her go, and when her footsteps seemed far away she turned to Neville and quickly said,

"Evil."

Neville just laughed and moved around her to enter the classroom. He set down his stuff on the table in front of her, and then turned around in his seat.

"Dean wants to know if he can try out."

"Of course. Thank Merlin he wants to. I've no idea how good or bad this year's prospects look. I suppose I'll know by tonight, I posted the sign up sheet this morning." She took out the vile and started spinning it in her hand. "Are you trying out?"

"You're hilarious!" He shouted and then started laughing. "I'm horrible at Quidditch, despite the years of goading from my Gran. Just wasn't gifted with that talent it would seem."

"Bah! Everyone can be good at Quidditch, it just takes practice. I bet I could make Hermione a decent Keeper by the end of the year if I had to." She twirled the vile and then set it down on the desk for a moment.

"From Harry?" He pointed at it.

"Sort of." She focused on it for a moment, the memory of the day filling her mind; she could almost smell the ocean.

"I don't think you could get Hermione off the ground long enough to defend the goals, let alone fly." Neville quickly changed topic and pulled an apple out of his robes to munch on.

"I bet I could persuade her. I just need the right amount of blackmail and reward. It would have to be both." She looked off, out into the patches of sun and clouds in the sky. Neville took a giant bite out of his apple and grinned at her.

"You can be very persuasive." He gave her a knowing smile and she couldn't help but laugh.

"You wanted to join up for the cause. I just poised it the right way." She snatched up the vile again and stashed it in her robes. Neville leaned across the opening and folded his arms on her table, the apple resting on his forearm.

"Perhaps." He teased.

"Don't get cheeky with me Longbottom!" She scolded and he just shrugged and took another bite.

"There you two are." Hermione burst into the room and set up shop next to Ginny, immediately. She seemed flustered, her eyes dark.

"Everything alright, 'Mione?" She cautiously asked.

"Of course." She shot off and flipped open her book, several notes already scratched into the corners and blank places. "Everything is great."

"So why are you acting so strange?" Neville took another bite, still hanging on their table.

"No reason." She eyed him, and Neville just shrugged and leaned back toward his side. The classroom started to slowly fill with seventh and eighth year students, but still no Ransach.

"Hermione," she whispered. She finally looked up from the scratching and writing she was still doing in her book. "There's something wrong with this woman. Neville doesn't believe me, but I think she might be evil."

"Ginny," Hermione gave her an eye roll and then looked back at her book.

"Fine." She grumbled, the bell rang, and the class looked around for their teacher. After a few joyful moments of teacher free bliss the door opened again and Ransach smiled at the class, looking flustered and blushed.

"Sorry, sorry, I am late everyone. What a horrible first impression of me." She threw some more books down on her already fort like desk, and then flicked her wand at the board, the chalk quickly spelling out Belinda Ransach.

"Let me tell you a little bit about myself. I'm Belinda Ransach. I graduated from Hogwarts in 1982 where I was the Head Girl, and Prefect for Gryffindor for four years running. Upon graduation I started working for the Ministry of Magic as a historian for the documentation of the first rise of the Dark Lord. It was our hope that implementing a strong history of the building, rise to power, and what we then believed to be the defeat of one of the most heinous Wizards of our age would create a warning system to stop something that atrocious from happening again." She paused for a moment, the color back to normal in her face, and gave them all a grim smile. "As I'm sure you are all well aware, that was just not the case. During the second rise to power of the Dark Lord I worked with the Auror department, as well as with several departments within the Ministry to warn of the patterns and predictability that I had seen form from my years of following and documenting the Dark Lord. While it appeared everyone had the time to listen to me, no one seemed to have the time to heed my advice, and you were all exposed to the devastation and destruction of a second war."

The class was in rapture, even Ginny found herself leaning forward, intrigued by the tale. Ransach took a deep breath, straightened her robes a bit, and then spread her hands out before herself, a kind of benevolent gesture.

"That is why I am here. While I do have faith that the new Ministry will be more receptive to change and taking all opinions into account, I am a historian at heart. And this war, this final defeat of the Dark Lord was done mostly by students. Most of you are here, some of you are not," Ransach's eyes roamed to the back corner of Hermione and the members of the Underground. "But it is your story, you personal anecdotes and trials throughout the last eight brutal years that will really tell the story. As McGonagall said at the beginning of the year feast, I have extensive knowledge of Dark Magic and Defense. My years interviewing and working with witches and wizards on both sides of this war has given me that luxury. While I intend to teach all there is to know about Defense, I feel that the real lesson you should walk away with this year is the history, the very recent history, and how important it is to never let that go silent again."

She gave them a sad smile, her eyes flaming with passion, her face looking almost as young as everyone in the class, and then clapped her hands. Everyone jumped, startled, and then she turned to the board and with a wave of her wand her name disappeared and several pieces of chalk started writing down notes.

"Don't take down anything yet." She said over her shoulder as the room filled with the scratching of quills. She continued to watch the board until the chalk all fell down to the holder, finished. "The first lesson I'd like us to engage in is names. I don't know any of you. Let's start at the front here, and work our way to the back corner." As she said this she pointed to Terry Boot in the front corner, and her finger scanned the crowd to land on Ginny.

"Knew it." Ginny grumbled. She'd saved the 'most knowledgeable' corner for last. Hermione gave her a slight nudge, as if it would keep her comments silent.

"Terry Boot, Professor."

"Hello, Mr. Boot. Which house are you in?"

"Ravenclaw."

"And is it safe for me to assume you are an eighth year student?"

"Correct, ma'am."

She smiled at him and then continued to move down the rows, giving the same attention and series of questions to each student. Finally coming to the final six. Luna was first, then Seamus, then Dean, and then Neville.

"Hermione Granger, Professor." Hermione's voice was quiet, but strong. "Gryffindor. Eighth year by special dispensation."

"I would think so." Ransach gave a small laugh. "After what you have accomplished Miss Granger it would be an insult to hold you back."

"Thank you, Professor."

"And finally we come to…" Ransach trailed off but trained her eyes on Ginny. The whole class looked at Ginny.

"Ginny Weasley." She said as evenly as possible.

"Seventh year, Gryffindor." Ransach finished for her, she nodded. "Alright. With all that out of the way I'd like to give you all the very first assignment. As you can see on the board I have a series of questions I'd like you to answer in as many words as necessary for each one. Since some of these questions will take some time, and I know that all of our seventh year students have a tremendous workload this year, I thought I'd cut you all some slack on the first day and let you start working on it now."

There was a mummer of happiness that shot through the room, as everyone got ready to work. Ginny looked up at the board and her mood darkened faster then lead through water.

_1) Please detail any information you had about the first rise of the Dark Lord. This could be stories from your parents, articles you have read, or information you have learned in school so far._

_2) What efforts, if any, had you made during the second rise of the Dark Lord?_

_3) If you've had any first hand experience with any aspect with the defeat of the Dark Lord please explain._

She stopped reading. The first three questions alone would require a novel in and of itself from her. She tossed her quill down onto the parchment and started fumbling around with the vile in her pocket.

"What's wrong?" Hermione whispered next to her, already two pieces of parchment deep on the first question.

"I don't want to answer these."

"Ginny, don't be difficult." Hermione huffed.

"How is having to rehash every detail of my life being difficult? I could say the same for you." She hissed back. She could see Neville and Dean's shoulders bouncing with laughter.

"You should consider yourself lucky that you even have something to write about. Think about some of the other people in this class, what are they going to write down? I went to school every day? I read the Daily Prophet?" Hermione continued to answer the questions as she scolded her.

"And what would you suggest I write about? My very first year at Hogwarts I was possessed by the soul of Voldemort to do his bidding in opening the Chamber of Secrets thereby wreaking havoc across the school, unearthing a Basilisk, nearly closing Hogwarts, and almost killing Harry and myself in the process." She snapped at her in a hushed voice.

"Yes, and it wouldn't hurt to add that the diary happened to be a Horcrux that added in the assistance of the defeat of Voldemort." Hermione replied in a calm voice and turned over her parchment to continue writing.

"You're impossible." Ginny hissed.

"And you are moody." Hermione snapped back.

"Is there a problem, ladies?" Ransach asked from her desk, a smile still across her face.

"No, Professor." They both answered at the same time. Neville and Dean still laughing under their breaths in front of them. Ransach nodded and then looked back down at her desk.

"I know where you sleep." Ginny warned under her breath to the two of them. Dean turned slightly so he could look at her and whispered.

"Oohh, I'm so scared."

"You should be." Hermione quietly said, looking up through her lashes at him, and Dean's face dropped into fright. He quickly snapped back around and Ginny and Hermione met eyes and smiled.

* * *

~*~

She was quite sure that McGonagall had set up the room arrangements personally this year. She was in a room with Hermione only. The word grateful didn't even begin to cover it. Hermione had been off, doing Head Girl things, for most of the evening. After checking the sign up list, which seemed to be almost everyone of age in their House, she had forgone the crowded and annoying common room for her own bed. She'd spread out all her homework, books, parchment, and switched into her pajama's before sitting down on the bed.

It wasn't that the homework was hard; it was more that the homework was extensive. There was just so much of it, and she looked at her beside clock and sighed, seven. She should be having fun, but it would appear any seventh year student that'd had the guts to come back was going to see the inside of classrooms more then anything else this year. She glared at Ransach's homework again and pushed it aside. She still had another day to muster the courage to write it. At the time, in class, she had thought it was indignation. But later on that night she realized she was afraid to write about all that information. Mostly because she knew it would produce memories, and it did not do well for her to dwell on the past, she had to keep moving forward.

"I already know who is trying to take Fred and George's spot." Hermione hissed as she stormed through the door. She felt herself flinch at the mention of Fred. "Sorry."

"Continue." She shook it off.

"Thompson. First year. He flew under my radar at the Sorting ceremony, but I've already found him trying to sell fireworks and Puking Pasties to everyone. Who does he think he's dealing with? Susan Bones? I am intimately aware of the entire line of products coming out of your brother's shop." Hermione was flustered, pulling at her tie, yanking out her shirt, and finally sweeping her mass of curls up into a messy bun on her head.

"I'll set up recon if you'd like. We could try and catch him in the act and photograph it. Blackmail him to do our bidding." Ginny joked, wringing her hands together. Hermione laughed and Ginny felt satisfied, that was all that she had wanted. She felt guilty about being such a pain today; she wanted to make sure Hermione wasn't already put out with her. She'd tried to pinpoint why everything was making her so moody, as Hermione had astutely pointed out, but all it kept coming down to was nerves.

"He's just being a first year. I guess I should be grateful; it's making it seem normal. If everyone had been good and clear of trouble it would have made for quite a depressing year." She flopped down onto her bed and then turned and frowned at her.

"What?" Ginny looked around and down at her lap.

"Already in your pajamas? Are you feeling alright?" Hermione's wary eyes washed over her again.

"Too much homework. I'm going to fall asleep doing it, might as well be comfortable." She shrugged and looked back down at her books. An owl fluttered through the window and landed on Hermione's bed. Ginny looked up through her lashes at Hermione's brilliant smile and pink blush, and caught the familiar scrawl of her brother. Hermione made tiny noises in the back of her throat, bit her lip, and laughed a tiny bit before folding the letter back up and smiling to the empty room.

"Harry say's hi." Hermione grinned.

"What?" She dropped her quill, ink splattering across the parchment. "How?"

Hermione opened the letter back up again and read,

"Harry dropped in for a moment yesterday. Said he had forgotten something, rushed into his room, and then before jumping back into the fireplace he barked out at me, 'Make sure to tell Ginny hi and good luck. I forgot to tell her good luck for the year.' Then he was gone again. So pass along the information, would you love?"

"Oh," she deflated. She wasn't quite sure what she had been expecting, but that message was not it. "Thanks."

"Maybe I shouldn't have said anything." Hermione tucked the letter away in her side table.

"No, no. Thanks." She waved her off and looked back down at her homework to hide her frown. The Charms homework was difficult, she had never thought Flitwick was a sadist, but he had assigned a torturous amount of difficult Charms to learn.

"So how do you feel about the first day?" Hermione was still just sitting on her bed, no homework, no busy work, just Hermione. She set down her quill inside her book to mark her place and leaned back onto her pillows.

"Conflicted." It was the best she could come up with.

"Why?" Hermione started working at the knot in her tie.

"I'm not quite sure what I expected, you know? A big part of me thought that everything would look exactly the same, and everyone would be exactly the same, and it'd be like any other year. But, then I started to realize that everything had changed. This dynamic that had been set in place for the last six years of Hogwarts for me is gone. I guess I'm a little lost in that aspect. I like the fact that almost all of the troublesome Slytherin's are gone, but at the same time I almost wish they were here. So, I'm conflicted." She shrugged her shoulders. The words that hadn't made it past her lips, the feeling that had flooded her as she'd stepped off the train, the reason this year was going to be almost unbearable remained deep in her chest. She couldn't voice something that personal and painful, even to Hermione. Because Hogwarts wasn't _her_ Hogwarts without Harry in it, and there was nothing she could do about that now.

"I know. Me too. I keep getting this feeling that I'm supposed to be doing something more, something else, but then I remember there is nothing else to do. There is no hunch on what Voldemort is up to, there is no surveillance of Slytherin activities, and I don't need to be in the library researching things for hours. I know I should be excited about that, but I'm not." Hermione met eyes with her and they both nodded at each other, seeming to both grasp what was missing, but knowing not to voice it. Finally she managed to get the knot free and slipped off her tie.

"It will just take some getting used to." Ginny offered and flipped her book back open, feeling as though their conversation might be coming to a close. Hermione took a few breaths and then cleared her throat.

"I had no idea you were so close with Neville." Hermione lightly said. Ginny paused, wondering why she had said it like a secret.

"What do you mean?"

"I knew you were friends," she started blushing and wrapping her tie around her hands, not making eye contact. "I guess I just didn't realize you were closer…never mind."

"What do you mean, Hermione?" She pushed. "Just say it."

"It's nothing." Hermione stood up from her bed and moved toward the bathroom, Ginny followed her every step with dark eyes. "He just seemed overly friendly, and kind of…flirty."

"Flirty?" She drew back and crossed her arms over her chest. "How?"

"Just the way he touches you, and talks to you and the such." Hermione started unbuttoning her shirt, moving to the bathroom.

"That's absurd, Hermione." She laughed, but something bubbled in her stomach. Neville was her best friend, and they were quite close, but it was purely platonic. She thought of him as a brother, nothing romantic filled her when she thought of him. But now she'd had two people, very close to her, seem to believe that something else was going on. Was it her fault she got along better with boys?

"Maybe, but maybe you can't see him the way I do. You're too close." She shouted from the bathroom, and then emerged in more comfortable clothes, but still not pajamas yet.

"We're close because of what we've been though. We were almost inseparable last year. Neville knows me better then anyone, better then Ron. Better then Harry. Everyone is just misinterpreting this. It's like when half the school thought you and Harry were in some secret relationship." She waved her off and looked back down at her homework, sick of the topic.

"When?" Hermione rose an eyebrow at her in the center of the room.

"Don't be daft, you knew it as well, it was all over the papers during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. But you knew you didn't like Harry, and Harry knew he liked Cho," she couldn't help the bitter edge that wrapped around the girls name. "So everyone made wild assumptions based on what was only a platonic friendship."

"I suppose." Hermione crossed her own arms, and then pocketed her wand. "But all the same, I wasn't expecting the amount of joking and attention you're getting from Neville and the others."

"It is _so_ not like that, Hermione. We're all just friends; you just weren't here last year to witness it forming. Are you saying I should be some spinster, pining away for Harry in my room, alone at all times?" Ginny rolled her eyes at Hermione. "Sorry, but the majority of my friends are guys, it's what I'm comfortable with. Hell, it's what you're comfortable with. So what exactly are you seeing in Neville that would lead you to this conclusion?"

Hermione bit her lip, like she had an answer ready to say, but then shook her head, and turned to go.

"I'll be back later." She called over her shoulder.

"Tell me!" She shouted to the door. Hermione turned around, the door slightly ajar and sighed,

"It's the way he looks at you."

Then she slipped back out, her words seeming to echo in her mind before she shook her head and got back to work.

* * *

~*~

_The first thing she noticed was the lightning. It cracked across the sky in white/blue bursts, illuminating the gathering darkness on the horizon. The next thing she realized was the ocean, frothing and building in front of her. She was at the beach again, Brighton Beach, and she had never seen the sea more angry. It dipped and peaked, waves crashing against waves, all with a murky dark grey color highlighted by the frothy white caps of the waves, and reflective of the lightning cracking above her head. She looked down and realized she was barefoot, her feet not on solid ground, as the rocks and shells were shifting and moving because of the coming storm._

_ There was a terrible wind. It was making her hair whip around her face, smacking and stinging with the intensity of the storm. She was wearing the gauzy grey dress again, matching the ocean and the sky, and knew the only thing standing out in this landscape was her hair. Rain started to fall from above, buckets and buckets of it, instantly drenching her. If it was even possible it seemed to make the ocean angrier, and she watched in horror as the water rose above the pier, yet it still had not touched her. The waves always crashed right before her feet._

_ Lightning cracked, thunder boomed, the ground shook with some kind of evil force, and with horror she watched as the ocean started to pull back from the rocks. It was sucking back toward the ominous clouds in the distance, exposing the rusty iron legs of the pier, drowning the fish flopping around in the puddles, revealing lost items like tires and car parts, and then the water started to climb. A giant wall of water was building out at sea, climbing higher and higher, blocking out the clouds, hiding the lightning still exploding across the sky, and then the wind kicked up a notch. It was almost pushing her toward the wall of watery death; she fought against it, a tide, a rip current dragging her out toward the quickly approaching tsunami._

_ She knew she had to move, she knew she had to run as fast as she could, and she also knew there was no hope. The monsterous wall of water, white capped at the top, highlighted with strikes of lighting, boomed toward her, and she closed her eyes to accept her death. She felt herself shaking, harder and harder, thought she heard her name being called behind herself, and then had one clear thought, amidst the panic and storm– Harry._

"Wake up!" Hermione yelled again and threw her covers off. "We're going to be late!"

"Harry." She said again, still slightly blinded by the nightmare. She put her face in her hands, her entire body vibrating with blood and adrenaline, and tried to block out the image of the tidal wave.

"Ginny? Are you alright? You're covered in sweat." Hermione wiped her hand off on her robes. She was already ready to go, her bed made, her book bag waiting on her trunk, her Head Girl badge shining. Her stomach turned, ready to vomit, and she jumped out of bed. The nausea passed and she slowly started to think it wasn't just a nightmare. She'd read about it for six years, thought it had always been some kind of joke, but maybe it had been a premonition.

"I think Harry has done something incredibly stupid." She looked up at Hermione, her chest still heaving, and prayed that it had just been a bad dream.

"Why?" All the color drained from Hermione's face.

"I…I…can't explain it. I had a dream. You wouldn't believe me, anyway." She stammered and pushed away from her bed, pulling out the clothes and books she would need for the day.

"Try me." Hermione held out her backpack and she started shoving her books and quills into it.

"I've had bad dreams. I've had flashbacks. I haven't had descent's night sleep since The Seeker." She stopped for a moment as Hermione's eyebrows rose a bit in surprise. She grabbed her backpack back and threw it on her bed. "But that was something else, something horrible, and I just have this feeling. I have this gut feeling that he's done something stupid." She grabbed her tights and then closed the curtains on her bed, quickly dressing. When she opened them back up Hermione was holding out a toothbrush, a hairbrush in her other hand, but she was thinking.

"But he's only been gone for a week. I don't really know what Auror training is like, but he couldn't have gotten into too much trouble in the first week." Hermione thought aloud as Ginny brushed her teeth. They both moved toward the bathroom where she finished up in the sink, and then Hermione passed over the brush. She started ripping it through her hair,

"I would hope so, but this is Harry we're talking about." She continued to attack her hair until it finally yielded to her, and then tossed the brush at the sink.

"Only one way to find out." Hermione frowned and moved out into their room to grab her bag. Ginny did as well and they both descended the stairs to find the boys lounging around on the couches.

"Any longer and I was going to have to eat Seamus!" Dean called up to them.

"You didn't have to wait for us." Hermione scolded on her way down the stairs.

"Oh, yes we did." Seamus nearly sang. "I really wanted to see Ginny's face."

"What?" Hermione paused before him and crossed her arms.

"We brought you two some breakfast." Dean held out the two bundled napkins of muffins and fruit. Her heart started pounding in her chest again.

"Ginny," Neville started slowly, hiding something behind his back. "There's been an incident."

"Just give it to me." She huffed and held out her hand.

"I wonder if it's going to be a calm fury or outrageous temper." Seamus continued, and Hermione glared at him.

"It's not really that bad. But you might want to dodge the crowds today." Dean tried to push the napkins of breakfast at them again.

"Hand it over, Neville." She shook her hand impatiently, and Neville gave her one last look and then put the rolled up paper into her hand. She gave him an eye, he gave her a frown, and then she unrolled the Daily Prophet with a shake and held it out between her hands. Bold and obnoxious across the front of the paper read:

**Harry Potter Still Hard at Work**

The picture was three separate scenes that together told more then she needed to know. First was Harry pushing a family, still in their nightgowns, back toward their house. The second was him flourishing his wand at something that was coming out of the woods that surrounded the night gowned family's house, and the third was his stag patronus leaping across the field in a giant burst of light so bright that the entire picture turned white before starting over again.

"Oh dear." Hermione sighed next to her. But she continued to read the first few paragraphs:

_You can count one more family that owes their lives to Harry Potter this morning. Last night, at half past eleven local time, a group of Auror's was called to a small family farm right outside Devon. The family had been complaining to the local authority of a Dementor problem, but the town had labeled them as crazy and left them to their own devices._

_ After the death of several different farm animals, and the spotting of a Dementor from their young son, Rick, the VanHusenburgh family had reached their breaking point. They called into the Ministry directly and a team of Auror's were dispatched. To their ultimate surprise Harry Potter was among the group._

_ There has been speculation about the reclusive hero of our age. He has only made a few appearances since his triumphant defeat of the Dark Lord, with no indication of what direction he wanted to take with his life. Sources say that he did not return to Hogwarts, unlike his counterpart Hermione Granger. _(She looked over her shoulder at Hermione for a moment, who had bright red spots of anger on her cheeks). _But it would appear that Mr. Potter has chosen a much more fitting role for himself, defender._

She stopped reading and folded the paper up again, placing it under her arm. Seamus had the biggest grin on his face, waiting for her explosion.

"So how many Demetor's was it?" She asked Neville.

"About five." He clenched his jaw, also seeming to fear the wrath she might unleash on them all. But she didn't feel anything. He was alive.

"Well then, he's off the hook. It was 15 or more that I would have sent a howler about." She stuffed the paper into her backpack, grabbed her sack of breakfast from Dean and started moving toward the door.

"Awe! Come on! Not even a growl?" Seamus whined.

"Guess you'll have to wait for something bigger to experience the full wrath of a Weasley temper tantrum." Dean smacked him on the back and the boys started gathering their things to follow her. She paused at the Fat Lady and Hermione came up right next to her. Her curls tickled her face as she whispered fast,

"Ginny?"

"What?" She forced a bite of muffin down.

"Your dream." Hermione looked over her shoulder at the boys who were still milling about.

"I know." She darkly replied before they could get any further. They pushed through the hole to start what was shaping up to be another long, long day.

* * *

~*~

Author's Note:

Have to point out the Cassandra Clare reference in here. I've been reading The Draco Trilogy again, and I don't think I'll ever be able to shake the image of Draco Malfoy walking around with a Mai Tai. Flawless!


	17. Chapter 17

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 17~

_Well I don't know, but I've been told  
You never slow down, you never grow old  
I'm tired of screwin' up, tired of going down  
Tired of myself, tired of this town_

_Mary Jane's Last Dance by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers_

* * *

~*~

It took her two days to work up the courage to finally ask Trelawney about her dream. It was the only class she had by herself, even Luna hadn't continued with Divination. They had been working on tea leaves and ball gazing for the most part, she had been keeping her dream diary diligently, but she couldn't help but think it was all a colossal waste of time. It had just been a nightmare, nothing to get so worked up over. Hermione didn't bring it up again, and she had been having black, dreamless sleep since. But she still couldn't shake the image of that horrible wall of water coming for her, and that singular moment of clarity right before waking.

"Professor?" She grabbed at a long, billowing sleeve that was passing.

"Yes, my dear?" Trelawney slowly turned and gave her a long blink.

"I was wondering if you could take a look at my dream diary." She held it out, and Trelawney sat down at the open spot next to her. That was the other reason she liked this class, she was literally all alone, opting to be the only student without a partner. With a waft of incense and sherry Trelawney's draping arm snatched up the book and then began to scour over it.

Ginny bit her tongue, her breath short and fast in her chest, the building anticipation making her slightly dizzy when added to the heat and murkiness of the room. After a few clicks of her tongue and nodding she handed the book back.

"You are blessed with vivid dreams my dear. There is much to interpret in these pages." She stood to leave, and the urge to get a better answer overtook the self preservation of her privacy,

"But you don't think it was any kind of…premonition? It doesn't seem like I could have had a window into…" She dropped off as the class, mostly Hufflepuff's and a few Ravenclaw's she didn't even know by name, poked their heads up.

"Just dreams my dear. You are gifted at the art of Divination, but you must develop your Seeing Eye before we can come to a premonition conclusion." She gave her a slow blinking smile and then turned back to the class. As she deflated the room snapped back to their tasks, lowly whispering to their partners. With a slow shake of her head she shoved her dream diary back into her backpack and looked down at her tea leaves again. Ron had said it years ago, in jest, but she felt the same way; no matter how you looked at them they always spelt out death.

* * *

~*~

"I don't believe that Divination is something that should be taught at this school." Hermione started. "But I did some research for you."

Hermione set down a giant stack of books on the floor next to her in the common room. It was almost the same height as her regular books that were stacked around her like a fort. She was propped up against the couch facing the fireplace that was giving off a warm glow amidst the building winter outside. Hermione was a welcomed distraction from the hours of homework and the scheduling she had been doing for the upcoming tryouts.

"Wow."

"What can I say?" Hermione shrugged and sat down next to her on the floor. There were clusters of students in all the corners and nooks of the common room, most doing homework. "And before your brain explodes, I already did all the research for you, and bookmarked the pages you should look at."

"Wow." She said again, awestruck. "Why?"

"I guess I just like a mystery." She smiled and then stood back up and dusted off her skirt. "Dinner is in an hour, you should try to make it down tonight. Maybe not drip your dinner all over your homework again. People start to worry when you don't show up."

"Who?" She twirled her wrist, stretching it out. It let off loud pops and snaps and she grimaced.

"You know who." She raised an eyebrow at her and Ginny waved her off. "As well as the rest of the school." Hermione huffed and then her eyes shot off to the corner of the room. "Thompson! I see you. Stop right there."

* * *

~*~

"Ginny!" She heard several voices call out to her and rolled her eyes before smiling and sitting down amongst her friends.

"You act like you never see me."

She started putting all the food on her plate and looked up toward the head table. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed it before, but there behind McGonagall's head was the shining dedication fitted into the wall. Before it became obvious that she was staring she looked back down at her food. Despite the grueling hours and non-stop homework she was still having some difficulty mustering up enthusiasm for food. It annoyed her to no end because it was the last tangible hang over from her disaster of a summer. Well, not all of it had been a disaster. She squeezed the vile in her pocket and smiled.

"Good to see you happy about potatoes." Seamus laughed, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"What can I say, I adore them." She subconsciously flexed her hand, where it should have been burned beyond repair, and caught Hermione watching her.

"Everyone wants to know, when are you posting the tryout schedule?" Hermione looked out across the table at the boys and they all nodded enthusiastically.

"Tonight. Tryouts are going to be Monday and Wednesday of next week. I find it hard to believe that every student of age wants to be on the House team." She tried a bite of potatoes, still no taste; she glared at them for a second before looking back up at the boys.

"Everyone's just excited." Dean smiled at her, she just shook her head, half annoyed and half amused and tried to focus on eating. An explosion of giggles erupted from the Hufflepuff table and the entire hall seemed to look over.

"Bloody Hufflepuff's." Seamus cursed under his breath. Ginny couldn't quite make out why he was so angry until she caught sight of the magazine. She instantly flipped back around and tried to cut her meatloaf up into the tiniest pieces possible.

"It's like they're multiplying and spreading their giggling disease across the House." Dean darkly commented. She noticed Neville and Hermione had fallen quiet and chanced a glance back at the table.

She'd been a little too preoccupied during the first few days to notice, but a new trend had started with most of the younger year students. A slew of horrible gossip magazines had come into publication, printing lies and pure speculation as truth on a weekly basis. Some of the articles were outright hilarious with their articles and obviously manipulated pictures, but one magazine in particular constantly got it right. Luminary Magazine, with Felicity Dagwood, seemed to continue to haunt her and Harry despite the distance and no-contact policy that Auror school required. She should have known the night of the Quidditch match when Hermione had butt in, but Felicity Dagwood seemed to have some kind of spy close to them. Or she could have impeccable guessing skills. It wasn't like it was that hard to figure out.

"I will find out where that woman is getting all her information." Hermione savagely sliced up her veggies.

"Calm down, Hermione. It's exactly what she wants out of you. Just ignore it." She lowly whispered to her as another round of giggles lofted up into the cloudy, twinkling artificial sky in the Great Hall.

"You are not reading them?" Hermione accused, looking at her sharply.

"Of course not."

"Then you wouldn't know why they're laughing today." She ground her teeth and looked back down at her plate. Then she fell silent and Ginny waited for a moment looking at the suddenly somber table before sighing and saying loud enough for everyone to hear,

"Let me guess. It must have something to do with a tattoo, or a hair cut, or some kind of enlargement spell. Or maybe they're claming my hair isn't really red, or that I'm using concealment charms to hide the eighth love child I've apparently conceived all on my own." Dean let out a tiny laugh. "No, I've got it. We're having some kind of rendezvous at the Hog's Head nightly, transfiguring ourselves into vampires." Seamus started laughing and shaking his head. "Maybe…oh, I see why you're mad. Maybe there's some kind of love triangle going on between you and me and Harry. Is that what it is Hermione?" Hermione gave her a withering look,

"Please."

"It doesn't matter what they print. The truth is actually too boring for ink. So just let the stupid little Hufflepuff's have their fun, leave me to my spinsterhood, and let's all get on with our lives. These magazines aren't going anywhere." She finished and stabbed a forkful of meatloaf.

"It's pictures." Neville spoke for the first time. He looked tired and angry all at the same time.

"I'm sure my head has been super imposed onto another body." She took a drink of tea. Neville started shaking his head,

"No. It's you. You, and Harry."

"Where?" She shot off, starting to get annoyed at everyone's cautious and somber mood.

"Some Muggle beach." Neville looked back down at his food.

"Brighton Beach." Hermione filled in the blank.

"And?" She tried to remain calm, there hadn't been any reporters that day, they would have seen them. Right? There was just the one kid with that ridiculous pink panda situation. "What? Why do you think that could be so bad?"

"Just ask her, Hermione." Neville almost moaned next to her. Hermione pressed her lips and appraised her, stalling for some reason.

The lack of food and sleep, coupled with the stress and loneliness she couldn't seem to shake hit boiling point in her brain. She jumped up from the table, stopping only to glare at her group of friends and then marched over to the third and fourth year cluster of Hufflepuff's. She could feel the head table watching her every move as she stopped in front of them, the entire hall falling to a hissing level of talking, and snatched the magazine right out of one of the girl's hands.

"What seems to be the lie today?" She flipped to the front of the magazine and saw herself and Harry doing various things on their day out. Nothing too bad at all.

"The fifth page." One of the Hufflepuff girls lowly said, her voice shaking. She glared down at the girls, all of them snapped back to looking at the table and she quickly ripped through the pages landing on the fifth one.

It wasn't the title, or the obvious lie that assaulted her from the pages. It was the pictures that made her fury cool and pool in her limbs. Of course everyone read her face wrong, the girls at the Hufflepuff table gasped,

"It's true?"

She instantly snapped out of it, and yelled at them,

"Of course it isn't! Don't be a twit!"

But there it was, displayed for everyone she could ever know to see. Pictures of her and Harry walking along the beach, close to each other, sunset in the background, and looking like he was putting something on her hand. It was horribly romantic, and it made her heart ache. The pictures on the other side were of Neville's protective stance when they were bombarded with photographers right after the Quidditch game. Side by side they made her look like a tart. Just like her Mum had warned her. She looked at the headline one more time:

_**Secret Engagement, Jilted Love**_

_Speculation continues to brew over the intimate pictures taken just two weeks ago on a Muggle beach. Are they? Aren't they? And does Ginny Weasley always have arm candy hanging around to escort her? Sources say this replacement fiancé, Neville Longbottom, filled in the shoes of The Boy Who…._

She stopped reading. This was all too much. She felt two very separate and immediate urges battle against each other in her mind. She wanted to keep the pictures. They were the only ones of her and Harry that she'd ever seen. The pictures were more memory inducing then a stupid jar of rocks and shells. But if she kept the magazine it would only fuel the fire. Her second urge was to burn everything in sight, every paper, every glossy magazine, and especially the hair on every Hufflepuff girl's head. But one quick glance up at the head table, where every teacher was watching her with ready and worried eyes, and she knew she could do neither. Instead, she threw the magazine down on top of the rest of the disgusting stack and with a flick of her wand envisioned the trunk in her room and thought 'Evanesco' as hard as she could. With a satisfied pop the magazines disappeared and she gave a mean grin to the shocked girls,

"Sorry about that."

"Ugh! I only get these sent once a week!" One of the Hufflepuff gossipers, a portly girl with big ringlets of dirty blonde hair, screeched at her. Ginny was about to retaliate back when, of all people, Professor Abbacus Turnsdale stood up and started clapping.

"Excellent use of a non-verbal spell Miss Weasley! Ten points to Gryffindor!"

The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers, waving her back over to celebrate, and the tension of the Great Hall disappeared as she made her way back over. She settled back down between Hermione and Neville and stabbed at her potatoes again.

"Cheers! Comeuppance and ten points! Good show!" Seamus laughed. Dean started clapping again and the table was suddenly buzzing with a great vibe.

"So it isn't true?" Neville lowly asked. The table was still exuberant with joy but once again she was forced onto a rollercoaster of unnecessary emotions.

"And what if it was?" She snapped back at him.

"You don't have a ring." She gestured toward her hands.

"Maybe I'm hiding it." She continued to goad him, her temper starting to flare in her chest. She could feel Hermione stir next to her.

"So you are?" He harshly whispered at her.

"Of course not! We're too young." She snapped back, and felt Hermione's hand lightly touch her arm.

"But you want to?" Neville's voice started to rise, and Seamus was the first one to snap to attention.

"What is your problem, Neville?" She growled at him. Hermione's hand clamped down on her arm, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Dean give Seamus a slow shake of his head, to try and get him to calm down.

"Nothing! Nothing is wrong." He yelled and pushed back from the table, making all the cups and plates slam against each other.

"Good! Glad to hear it!" She yelled back at him as he left, Hermione's iron clad hand still holding her to the table. All the chatter that had momentarily taken the attention off of her snapped back.

"Calm down." Hermione lowly warned, and she let out a charged breath at his leaving form.

"What the bloody hell is his problem?" She snapped and stabbed a now cold piece of meatloaf. "He wasn't like this at all over the summer. What the hell is wrong with him?"

"I don't know Ginny." Hermione sighed, sounding exhausted. She looked down at her plate again and her food disappeared. Dessert of every kind appeared on the table and she shook her head.

"I'm done. I'm going to do homework until I pass out again." She tried to keep a mockingly pleasant tone to her voice, and pushed back from the table and stood.

"Ginny," Dean said quickly and lowly and she looked down. "You should wait."

"Why?" She narrowed her eyes at him, but Dean did not wither away, and she had a brief flash of their time together and why she had liked him so much. He had courage through and through.

"For one it's only going to confirm what you just banished to the underworld. And two give the guy some space. Just sit down and have some dessert with us." He pulled some cookies off a pile and tossed them onto her plate, peanut butter and chocolate chip, her favorite.

"Alright." She sat back down, Hermione visibly relaxed. "But only because you asked."

"And what am I? Chopped liver?" Seamus looked scandalized and then fixed her with a giant grin.

"Alright, because of the cookies then. I'll stick around for the cookies." She took a large bite out of one of them and the table fell back into aimless chatter.

She stuck around; piping up for single word responses when she needed to, and then everyone started moving back toward their common rooms. Hermione and Dean took off to make sure the first years didn't wander, and she and Seamus took the stairs. Weaving around the bustle of students he started his line of questioning,

"So what day am I on for the tryout's, eh?"

"Wednesday." She laughed at his excitement.

"How many of each position do you think you're going to have?" He leapt across the trick step and landed next to her.

"Several. You know I can't tell you. That would be an unfair advantage." She punched him on the shoulder.

"I wouldn't tell." He tapped her back and she said the password and moved through the door.

"I don't think you need to worry. But, I promise nothing!" She added and paused at the banister for the girl's dorms.

"Thank you Captain Weasley." He gave her a mocking bow and she rolled her eyes and started up the stairs.

With the door closed and the noise of the common room below her she quickly moved across the space and threw open the lid to her trunk. Sitting on top, in all their glossy irritation were the magazines she'd banished. She hadn't known she was holding it but she let out a breath of relief.

She grabbed them all and sat down on her bed, homework forgotten for the moment. Two weeks, quickly approaching three, had passed. For a few pathetic moments in the few days before she shipped off to school she'd felt overwhelmed with a feeling of…disbelief. Disbelief that he loved her, disbelief that he wanted her, disbelief that any of it had even happened. She only had memories to confirm, all the tabloid pictures had been instantly turned to ash anytime they came into the house. She didn't have any pictures of her and Harry, she didn't have any picture of Harry at all, as a matter of preservation from when she was younger. It was a learned behavior.

Now, with the vivid colors, and slowly moving pictures in front of her, she wished she could keep them. It was a large stack of magazines; she hadn't realized she'd banished an entire stash of rags. Slowly she started to flip, page after page. Relief was one of the first things that filled her. It wasn't an entire magazine dedicated to them. As a matter of fact there was very little of them, an article or a picture, a blurb or a spotting. She came across the beach pictures and spread them out across her bed, one magazine touching the next to show a timeline of their day.

The whole time they had thought they were alone, and the whole day someone had been following them around. The thought of some invisible or glamoured Wizard photographer made her feel uneasy and paranoid. Despite that, she still wanted the pictures. Harry laughing and passing her the bag of candy, her almost dancing around him on the pier talking and joking with each other, a few seconds of the melting kiss he'd given her, her picking and poking at the funnel cake with her hair blowing around, Harry's sly smile as she whispered the secret to wining the game, they taunted her. She closed her eyes for a moment and fished out the vile from her robes, tossing it to the bed with the tabloids.

"Ginny?" Hermione quietly asked as she moved into the room, she hadn't heard the door open. "I thought you'd have banished them here."

"I had to see them." She lamely admitted.

"So he took you to Brighton Beach that day?" She moved across the room and stood next to her bed, looking down at the pictures as well.

"Yeah." She looked at one of the other magazines. It was the two of them walking down the beach, arms wrapped around each other, sun blazing behind them, the pier lit up with giant orbs of white light.

"Very romantic." Hermione picked up the vile and tilted it in her hand, watching the colors move around. "So this must be part of the beach, then."

"How did you guess?"

"I've been there before, with my parents. I'd told Harry about it this summer. We used to have a great time, before Hogwarts." She shrugged.

"I don't have any pictures of him. I don't have any pictures of us. It's almost like it never happened." She looked at the last magazine, the final moments of sunset making them almost look like shadows, she was holding something in her hand, Harry's head bent down toward her. It did look like some kind of engagement, but it had been the awful portkey's.

"I know this is hard." Hermione sat down on top of the magazines and held out the vile for her. "But…"

"I know." She cut her off before it could get awkward. Hermione pulled back her hand, and looked back down at the tabloids spread across the bed.

"He loves you, Ginny. He may not be the smartest boy, taking off for Auror School being the first example. He may not have said it in so many words, but I know he does." She twirled the vile around again.

"I know he loves me. He's told me." She half smiled and Hermione looked at her, surprised. "Don't get too excited. It'd just be easier to remember on days like this if he was here."

"You wouldn't have days like this if he was here." She gently added and she felt herself nodding in agreement. She took the vile out of Hermione's fingers and set it down on her bedside. Then with one quick flip of her wand she sent all the magazines shooting toward the small fireplace in their room. Even the ones Hermione had been sitting on flew to the fire for an ashy end.

"You could have kept them, I wouldn't have told." She continued to stare at the fire, long after the slightly green flame from the magazine wax had burnt out.

"No. It's better this way." She swallowed hard and then summoned her Charms book. "Did you finish your homework yet?"

"Yes." Hermione slowly stood up and moved over to her bed, seeming reluctant to move way from the topic. "Did you need some help?"

* * *

~*~

Double Herbology. She had insisted that Neville be her partner on the first day. Even though she had a fluttering sensation in her stomach, she knew she would have to confront him. He was acting far too strangely, and she wouldn't have it. She had to keep her friends close, it was the only thing that would keep her together, and let her graduate. They needed to have it out.

She marched down, first thing in the morning, knowing he would be there. He was the student aid to Professor Sprout, and would have been setting up today's lesson. She hadn't even grabbed breakfast. The grounds were damp from a storm that had passed through overnight. Her robes were soaked along the bottom before she made it down to the greenhouses and threw open the door.

"Alright. I won't have this. Let's have it out now, Neville." She shouted and threw her bag down onto the counter. Neville dropped whatever he was holding back onto the soil, it quickly dug its way back down. Professor Sprout raised an eyebrow at her, and then gave Neville a quick pat on the back before moving for the door. "Sorry, Professor."

"It's fine." She smiled and left them alone. The greenhouse door shut and she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Morning, Ginny." Neville wiped his hands off on his apron.

"Don't 'Good Morning' me. What was your problem last night?" She held her ground as he started digging through the soil again, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Nothing."

"Please." She shot off. "Believing the tabloids and then yelling at me about it. What has gotten into you, Neville? What happened to my friend this summer? The guy that made me laugh and forced me to eat fruit? Where did he go?" She started moving toward him, crossing the damp earth. He continued to stab at the soil.

"He's still here."

"Doesn't seem like it." She closed the gap and grabbed the dowel out of his hand, and his eyes finally met hers'. "Just tell me what's wrong. You're my best friend."

"Am I?" He searched her face.

"Of course you are. After all we've been through? How could you even ask me that?" She put a hand on his arm, and he seemed to relax. A slight smile pulled across his face and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Sorry. I overreacted. The pictures just looked so convincing."

"It was a portkey." She shook her head and let go of his arm, leaning against the counter. "We were on the beach, just talking, and suddenly these two owl's swoop out above us and drop down these items. I got my Hogwarts tie, and Harry get's this wooden spoon. The photographer must have gotten us both looking at our portkey's right before they zipped us away."

"Who sent you portkeys on a Muggle beach?" Neville laughed, and the fluttering in her stomach finally stopped to be replaced by relief.

"George." She snapped. "It was for The Seeker that night. You remember, don't you?"

"How could I not? You were tossed!" He picked up a clump of dirt and threw it at her.

"Was not!" She tossed one back, and then brushed off her robes.

"So you must not remember." A sly smile pulled across his face. "It was quite an eventful walk home."

"What do you mean?" She felt her mouth drop open. There seemed to be a complete blank spot in her memory of that night.

"You were too drunk to walk. Ron and Hermione were quite tipsy as well. Everyone was slightly tossed except for Harry. And me. So we had to take turns dragging your chanting butt back toward his apartment." Neville crossed his arms and lightly laughed. "You don't remember at all do you?"

"No." She looked down at the floor trying to make her brain remember.

"You kept trying to run off, but your legs were like noodles. You'd get a few steps and then start laughing and trip over nothing. You're quite clumsy, Ginny." He laughed and then continued. "And when you weren't tripping or hanging all over everyone you were getting the whole crowd riled up to sing Quidditch fight songs."

"No!" Her hands shot to her mouth and she felt the blush start to creep up her neck. "There's no way. I wasn't that drunk! I was far more tossed the night before!"

"Are you saying you're a lush?" Neville's laughter filled the greenhouse and she closed her eyes as the blush reached her cheeks.

"Of course not! Do you see me glugging it up with Trelawney?" She smacked his arm. "Oh dear. You know those pictures are going to surface somehow."

"Nah. We were taking back alleys and cutting through the Muggle side. Harry all but carried you back once we were close enough to the apartment and I left. I doubt anyone will ever know. Except for me and Harry." He smiled and looked her over.

"Well, treasure the memory, because it will never happen again."

"Sure about that?" He grinned. She just looked back up at him; sure her face resembled a cherry tomato, and glared. Neville started laughing and the greenhouse door swung open again.

"Neville, were you able to extract it?" Professor Sprout called out as she moved back toward them.

"Sorry," he quickly fumbled around, looking for his dowel and Ginny held it out for him. "I'll do it right now."

"Perhaps you should help Miss Weasley. It really is a two person job." Professor Sprout smiled at them and then continued to move around the greenhouse getting it prepared for the coming class.

"What are we looking for?" She pushed up the sleeves on her robes and patted the dirt.

"Knarl's. Two of them got into the greenhouse. We need to get them out before they start to destroy everything." He started digging into the soil again.

"Is it going to bite me, or poison me in any way?" She gave the soil a wary look.

"No. If anything it will just spike you."

"Lovely." She groaned but picked up a hand shovel and started digging as well. She should have been expecting it, but the soil was full of creepy crawlers and various bugs. After all her years of Herbology there was still a tiny, girly, part of her that shrunk away from the experience. But the Gryffindor side and a lifetime of having brothers put flobberworms, Streelers, and double-ended newts in her hair always won out.

"What exactly am I looking for?" She stabbed at the soil again.

"Looks like a hedgehog, mostly likely covered in dirt." Neville stuck his hands into a dark hole he'd managed to dig. She saw something start to burrow and her hands reached out to grab some back legs.

"I think," she grunted and pulled hard again, and a squealing, angry, dirt matted rodent of some kind started trying to burrow back into the hole.

"Stupefy!" Neville shot at the beast and it fell limply to the ground. "Good job."

"Thanks?" She looked down at her ruined clothes. "You said there were two?"

"Professor Sprout thinks they were sent to scope out the greenhouse. They would normally just pass through, but because we don't want them here it offended them, and now they are trying to seek revenge." He trailed off at the end and eyed a patch of plants at the end of the table that were starting to move on their own. They moved down the row as quickly as possible and stopped on either side of the moving shrubbery. Neville crouched down and after a moment of silence he shouted,

"Stupefy!"

He emerged from the overgrown gillyweed and snapping iris's with the other Knarl.

"Excellent work you two. Ten points to Gryffindor!" Professor Sprout clamped a large hand on her shoulder and then passed over the other stunned Knarl for Ginny to hold. She grabbed onto the back legs of the thing and held it away from her body. Its beady little eyes held a frightening amount of fury.

"We'll be back." Neville walked around the set up for the day and backed out of the greenhouse, she quickly followed. Students were starting to make their way out of the castle, but Neville was moving toward the forest.

"So we're just going to toss them out there and hope for the best?" She looked back down at her angry Knarl.

"Well kind of. We need to get them deep enough that they won't come back, and then we have to un-stun them, and then we have to make sure they don't follow us back. You wouldn't think it, but they are quite smart." Neville reached the line of the forest and held back some branches for her.

"So now that we're not mad at each other anymore, can I copy your Herbology homework?" She gave him a brilliant smile and Neville nodded and laughed. They stomped through the trees and the underbrush, the patches of sky through the trees growing smaller and smaller.

"Did you even attempt to do the homework?"

"I always attempt it, I got about halfway through, but then I fell asleep."

"I think you've bitten off more then you can chew, Ginny." He stepped over a fallen log and held out his hand to assist her. She grabbed onto his forearm and hopped over.

"What choice did I have? I wasn't going to repeat the 6th year, and be stuck with all those 5th years. Not when all my friends were coming back as 7th years." Her Knarl accidentally hit a tree and she paused for a second to make sure it was okay. She couldn't tell, it just continued to look furious.

"I guess you're right," he paused for a second looking out into the tree line at shadows moving around. "How's Ron, by the way?"

"Fine. Helping out George and the shops. I'm sure he enjoys being helpful. It was dreadful over the summer when the four of us were just stuck there." She sidestepped around a suspicious looking pile of leaves. The forest was growing thicker around them, choking out the sounds of birds and creatures. Now it was mostly shadow and silence.

"Ginny, I'm really sorry about the way I acted yesterday. I…" He started and she caught his eyes giving her the once over.

"You?" She prompted, and then stopped waiting for an answer. They both looked down at their feet as about twenty spiders scurried away. Neville held the bush back as she stepped through and she looked up to see a perfectly circular clearing with a giant, abandoned web in the corner.

It built so fast that she couldn't warn Neville. She only had time to feel remorse for the Knarl she was about to kill when she fell on it. The darkness sucked her under.

* * *

~*~

_It was close to one in the morning. They were in a forest again, but somehow, and she couldn't quite peg it, she knew it was different. It was a perfectly circular clearing in the middle of the trees and brush. There were only patches of moonlight that managed to break through the leaves and branches to cast an eerie blue glow on everything. The ground looked like a bruise, black and blue, the trees looked like shadows, a dark black blue, and Harry…he looked haunted. She followed his line of sight and saw a giant abandoned web. Her feet stuck to the ground partly because they were water logged, and also because in that moment she knew where they were._

_ He was at the end of his story; this was the part where he died. They were separated by only a few feet, but the claustrophobia of the enclosure made her feel like she could taste him. There was no sound, almost as if nothing could live in the clearing, at least not for very long._

_ "Forbidden Forest." He whispered, although it seemed incredibly loud. She nodded, far past words at this point. "So…" he paused and cleared his throat for a moment. "I knew, at this point, what needed to be done. It was sort of a relief in a way, because everything would finally be over. And despite everything that had happened, was happening around me…I thought of you." He paused again and chanced a glance at her. Beyond stunned she had stopped breathing, her mouth opened a little with surprise and then he continued. _

"_When the spell hit me," he stopped and she took a tiny intake of breath, following his eyes to a patch of dirt. "Everything went white, and then I was at a train station."_

_ He stopped to look at her, and she quickly met his eyes. There were obviously several things he was leaving out, but sometimes experiences like that, near death ones, are just too personal to share with anyone. No one knew everything that had happened with her and Riddle, and no one ever would. Something sparked between them, a level of understanding that some things were always better left unsaid. Harry was the only person she knew in her life that had come as close to death as her. The brilliant jade green that bored into her in that moment made her believe that maybe it went both ways. The air cracked again with electricity, and she nodded for him to continue._

_ "So I had to make a choice. Do I get on the train, and…leave? Or do I come back? It was so strange, Ginny." He trailed off, lost somewhere in his memory. After a few moments she closed the gap between them and grabbed his hand. Then she pulled him up against her and squeezed him as hard as she could._

* * *

~*~

"Please, please don't die." Neville's voice broke through and she cracked open an eye at him.

"I just passed out, no need to get emotional." She grumbled and tried to sit up. Big mistake, her head swam and she laid back down. "Didn't catch me, hu?"

"Sorry." He knelt down over her, his hands brushing off leaves and dirt from her robes. "It all happened so fast."

"Did I kill the Knarl?" She rolled to her side, and then sat up.

"No, it's alright. I threw them into the bushes." He picked some twigs out of her hair and fixed her with a very nervous stare. "What happened?"

"I blackout. Often. My brain just kind of shuts off when it goes into memory overload. It hasn't happened in a while." She looked at the spider web again and tried to take a calming breath, but her mind was starting to wander, trying to imagine a body lying down on the dirt in the shadows. "Can we get out of here? I don't want to pass out again."

"Of course." Neville grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her up, keeping his arm locked in place. With a quick swish of his wand she saw the Knarl's shudder awake and take off. He held back the bushes and pushed them through. The bushes quickly closed back up, leaving them in damp, dark forest. She took, what felt like, a very cleansing breath.

"Thanks." She gave him a pat and he finally let go. She leaned against a tree and stuck her head between her legs. "How long was I out for?"

"Not too long, about ten minutes or so." His voice was very close, and he was pacing slightly, breaking apart twigs and dead leaves on the floor. "What caused the blackout? Was it something I said?"

"No." She slowly brought her head back up and felt around her face. No cuts, no bleeding, but right under her hairline a huge knot was forming. She sighed, now she'd have to go to Madame Pomphrey.

"Then what was it? One minute you were fine, the next you just fell all limp to the floor. I expected the worst. I mean, I'd like to know what might set you off, so I know not to say or do it." He continued to nervously pace back and forth in front of her snapping and crackling vegetation as he moved.

"You sound just like Harry." She moaned and closed her eyes with frustration. Neville put a steadying hand on her shoulder, pressing her against the tree, and started giving her a first aid exam. He touched around her face, finding the knot, he flashed some light from his wand at her eyes to make sure she didn't have a concussion, she didn't.

"So are you going to tell me?"

"I sort of don't want to." She frowned at him.

"Alright," he sighed and slung his arm back around her waist. "So maybe coming back into the forest for anything is out of the question for you."

"No," she quietly said. "Just that part."

Neville was quiet for a very long time, and then his arm squeezed her tighter and he whispered,

"Alright."

They continued to stumble through the woods until they broke through the brush and back onto the grounds.

"Stop for a minute." She pleaded and when he did she tapped his arm to let her go, and then dropped to the floor. Her head was pounding, her body was sticky with sweat, and she felt a dry heave coming up.

"Ginny," Neville hit the ground as well, and grabbed onto her shoulders. "Did you eat anything today? Are you going to pass out again?"

She didn't have the willpower to speak, plus, if she did she might throw up. She shook her head instead. Everything started swimming; the colors of the sky and the grass were vibrant and shimmering. In the distance she could see the greenhouse and the castle. Her stomach turned again and she clamped her arms around herself. She did not want to throw up all over Neville as well. One person was enough. Neville was flustered and fluttering about, completely out of his element.

Of course all her mind could give her were hazy thoughts of Harry and how he always seemed so in control whenever she was falling apart. It made her heart actually ache in her chest, and as Neville's shaky hands fell onto her shoulders again she wished they were Harry's. She needed to take control this time; no matter how badly Neville wanted to help he wouldn't have the slightest idea how.

"I need to lie down. I need some food. I need some water. And I need this all to be done without anyone knowing, Neville." She looked up at him, the sky exploding with light.

"Ginny."

"Promise me. No one can know. Least of all Hermione." She grabbed onto his robes and then quickly dropped them. How many times would she have to ask this of him? How many more times would she make him promise her things?

"Of course." He said without hesitation. She closed her eyes and nodded, both ashamed and relieved that he'd said yes. Gently, he picked her up under her arms, and then grabbed her waist again and they were off. Slowly but smoothly making their way up a less used path to the castle. When her feet hit stone she felt another pulse of blackness threaten in the back of her mind.

"Faster." She whispered to him. He squeezed her closer and slightly off the ground. Her feet started tripping and catching on the stones but they kept moving forward. The halls were mostly deserted, everyone in class. But a few eighth year students would stick their heads out from alcoves or hallways to see them pass.

"Should we go to…"

"No." She cut over him before the suggestion of the infirmary could be vocalized. "Just drop me on a couch or something, I'll be fine."

"Ginny," he growled at her, but they continued to fumble up the stairs. It had never seemed like more stairs to her then today, but they mercifully made it to the Fat Lady and Neville drug her inside. The common room was empty, he set her down on a couch, she took a long grateful sigh and garbled to Neville,

"Thanks."

"Just…" he helped her lay down. "Sleep, just sleep, Ginny."

She nodded, and for the second time that day had flashes of those same words exiting another mouth, as they were grumbled above her, with an explosion of yellow warmth gently tucked around her. Her heart twisted with a moment of lonely agony and she wished, again, that Neville was Harry. She closed her eyes.

* * *

~*~

"You really expect me to believe that, Neville?"

"Of course. Why would I lie to you?"

"So Ginny decided to try and impress you with her Charms skills and turn a Knarl into a hat, which backfired horribly and gave her an enormous welt on her head and caused her to pass out."

"Yep, that's how it happened." Neville gave her a tiny laugh, and internally Ginny sighed. The laugh gave him away; he was never a really good liar to begin with.

"Weren't fast enough, hu?" Hermione quietly asked.

"No." Neville morosely answered.

"It's alright. Harry was the only one who was."

Hermione's voice was a strange mixture of anger and sorrow, unbefitting for the current situation.

"How often does this happen?"

"It used to happen a lot. But this is the first time in the last couple of weeks. I thought she was getting better. She seemed better." She felt Hermione's cold hand brush across her forehead.

"I thought so too. But we made it into that clearing and she just fell over, like she was dead. It all happened so fast."

"What clearing?" Hermione's hand ripped away, and the question came out fast and hard.

"In the forest. It was this giant circle of dirt with this horrible enormous spider web." Neville paused at something that happened with Hermione. Ginny was surprised herself; she'd thought Neville had figured it out. She opened her eyes to see the exchange. Neville was leaning forward, ready for any answer. Hermione had turned ashen white, a hand over her mouth, she was shaking her head slightly, her mass of curls trembling on her head. "Hermione?"

"It's where Harry died, Neville." She croaked and sat up all the way. "He showed me this summer, it triggered the memory, and I blacked out."

"Really?" His eyes bugged wide on his face, his mouth dropping open.

"Really." She stood, everything swam, and both their hands shot out to grab her. She brushed them off. "I'm going to get some food."

"Let us come with you." Neville snapped out of it and tugged Hermione's robes to drag her along.

"Please, I just," she paused at the door. "I need to be alone."

"Alright." Hermione nodded and pulled Neville back.

She pushed through the door and wandered down to the kitchens, hoping she could convince some house elves to feed her.

* * *

~*~

"Today we are learning something spectacular." Professor Turnsdale smiled at the class. "Today we are starting our section on Inanimatus Conjurus."

The class started mumbling and talking with each other, other then Ginny and her partner. She had Transfiguration with Slytherin, and Professor Turnsdale in his infinite stupidity had paired up a Gryffindor with a Slytherin when possible. She'd thought she'd get off easy, since he was going alphabetically, but then he decided to go reverse. She felt Blaise Zabini give her a sideway glance, and she continued to look forward. He wasn't a bad partner, he was very talented in Transfiguration, but old grudges die hard. Her friends always tried to give her sympathetic looks when they could, but as long as Zabini could keep his mouth shut and his hands to himself, so could she.

"I believe that with some wit and guts we could have this entire class conjuring rocks and then transfiguring them into furniture. That's our goal for the next few weeks, and that's where we start today." He finished with another large smile and then reached down a lugged a giant box of rocks up onto his desk. "Pick a partner to come up and choose two rocks."

They looked at each other, and then Zabini stood up and moved to the front. She let out a breath of relief. She was still a little shaky from the morning, despite being able to eat and drink until she was full. She couldn't seem to shake the memory of the clearing, or how much she wished Harry was around. Zabini came back and set down an ugly looking rock on her desk, then his own perfectly smooth one.

"Thanks." She drawled at him.

"No problem." He admired his rock again and then looked back up at the board. She didn't push it any further; she would have done the same thing to him. Hermione gave her a sympathetic look and she just rolled her eyes and pointed at her rock. It made Hermione laugh a little, and she felt a tiny bit lighter.

"Alright, books open, quills out. Let's get started on the theory of Inanimatus Conjurus." Professor Turnsdale turned to the board and she stretched out her wrist for preparation.

* * *

~*~

"Miss Weasley, will you hold back for a moment?" Turnsdale called over the bustle of the class. Everyone was shoving their bags full and making their way to the common room before dinner. She nodded, waved off her group, and left her bag on the desk.

"Yes, Professor?"

"So, Captain of Gryffindor?" His teeth gleamed even in the low light of the classroom.

"Yes." She fidgeted with her hands, waiting for wherever this was going.

"I've been out of Hogwarts for a while, but I do like to keep track. You come from a very strong Quidditch family, Miss Weasley. I would be bold to say that maybe you are the best player out of almost an entire family of Quidditch players."

"I don't know about that." She blushed and chanced a glance at him again. Still the same radiant smile, and hair that somehow managed to look perfectly tousled no matter what. Unlike Ransach the stuffy almost boring teacher's robes looked handsome on him.

"You don't give yourself enough credit. I have a friend of mine. He's a scout for all the professional teams. Lots of players are getting older, or moving on with their lives, finding another passion." He knocked his knuckles on the desk and looked around the classroom with a grin. "I know there is going to be at least two opening on the Harpies next year."

"Really? If you don't mind my asking, how?" She bit her lip, willing the excitement to stay dormant. No point in getting worked up. It was just one of the major players of the best Quidditch team in the league possibly telling you that you could be a professional player.

"Well, one of them is pregnant." He smiled and then laughed. "My girlfriend and I are expecting. And I'm sure she's expecting a ring any day now. Her teammate just accepted an offer to teach at Beauxbatons. Like I said, we're being called to other endeavors now. You can't play Quidditch forever."

"Of course." She smiled, and then bit her tongue before the excitement could explode out of her.

"I've heard very good things about you. I'm going to call up my mate, see if he can come to some games, check out the talent we have here at Hogwarts. Being a Captain will showcase a lot of different things for you. Your ability to lead, to organize, to train, to fly, and how you deal with loss and defeat. The Harpies only accept the best. Do you think you could be the best, Miss Weasley?"

"Yes." She immediately said, knowing it in every fiber of her being. Professor Turnsdale laughed and gave her a light pat on the shoulder.

"We'll see. I'll be interested to see how your team crops up." He stood up and she moved toward her desk. "I have to catch Professor Flitwick before he sits down to eat. I'll see you soon." He gave her another pat and then left her alone in the classroom. Hermione fired around the corner, her lips pressed tight with anticipation.

"So?"

"I think I'm going to drop my electives. I know what I want to do with my life now." She shoved her books into her backpack. "He told me he's bringing a scout."

"For Quidditch? For you?" Hermione's eyes were huge; she was still hanging onto the door.

"Yes and yes." She moved toward her, feeling the lightest and happiest she had in a very long time.

"Good luck with that Ginny. I don't think McGonagall is going to like it much." Hermione laughed and closed the door on their way toward dinner.

"I have to at least try."

* * *

~*~

Her dreams were scattered and frightening. Giant spider webs, the Carrows coming after her down a long dark hallway, hastily and roughly washing all the blood off her hands in a girls bathroom with tears streaming down her face, Seamus in the infirmary after that horrible fight, Neville's angry look at the table last night, and then everything started to melt away and even her dream self was startled.

_She was at Hogwarts, and when she looked around she knew exactly _when_ she was. The castle was still blazing and broken, the darkness making all the lifeless bodies unidentifiable as they stretched out across the grass. She had been running on pure adrenaline at that point. Having to sneak out to be a part of the fight, and having everyone, including Harry, yell at her to stay back had only fueled her need to be there. She had witnessed horrible things, and yet the worst one, the one she still could not let her mind wrap around and accept as truth, was getting pushed deep into her chest. Despite the fact that she hadn't been running she was heaving with short breaths. _

_ Focus. Focus. Her dream self seemed to chant and she looked around the wreckage to find one small girl. She could have been a first year, maybe a second year. She looked up at her with fearful eyes, like she no longer knew whom to trust. Sorrow burst through her and she felt herself choke on a few tears. No! Focus! Her mind reprimanded her and she knelt down next to the girl. She felt him._

_ The grounds were still, eerily still, like a mausoleum, no air getting in or out. She was sticky with sweat and blood, but there was a wind that suddenly fell over the two of them, and she looked around. She couldn't see him, but she could feel him. And if no one was there, but she still felt a wind, he was invisible. In that moment she wanted to find him, stop him, kiss him, yell at him, but instead the little girl let out a scared noise in her throat and her mind supplied the correct decision. Stop. Focus. He's not there anyway. Get the girl to safety. She helped her up, and he was gone._

_ The dream shifted, made time slip back, and she was there, standing over the girl again. This time when the soft wind fell over her she swung her arms around and her hand landed on fabric, she ripped it off and was face to face with him. She didn't hesitate, instantly she grabbed him and pulled him to her, kissing him so fiercely that her lips were bruising, his own hands bruising her he was holding her so tight. He started to pull away and the tears streamed down her face._

_ "Don't do it. Don't go. Please, don't." She begged him, trying to hold on as he continued to separate himself from her, one agonizing inch at a time. Time slipped back again, she was standing and the breeze blew through. This time when she went to wildly spread her arms and find him a hand shot out of the darkness and grabbed her. She looked up to see herself, how she looked now: drawn, pale, terribly thin, and haunted. Her present self seemed to appraise how she used to look as well: strong, vibrant, and determined. She knew she had seconds before he would go, but her present hand held her stiff to the ground._

_ "Let him go."_

_ "But…" Her dream self struggled against the restraining hand._

_ "He has to go." The pressure on her arm increased and she felt her knees buckle under the pressure. "He must always go."_

_ "What do you mean?" She shouted, feeling the tears start to spring to life again._

_ "He's gone."_

_The castle and the grounds whirled around her and she landed back at the beach, looking out at the calm and even ocean. It was almost like glass, the rides and music from the pier lofting over the breeze to her. She sat down in the sand and tried to will the calmness of the water into herself, but all she felt was unease._

She woke up with a start, slapping around her bed as if fighting off something. It snapped Hermione to attention.

"Ginny?"

"Damn dreams!" She moaned and fell back down on her bed. Hermione stood, with a wave of her wand the room was brightly lit. Outside the sky was still an inky black. It was either very late, or very early, those horrible few hours where the days started to blend together.

"What was it now? Is Harry in trouble?" Hermione sat down on the bed next to her, her voice tight and fast.

"If my dreams actually are premonitions then, no, he's fine." She tossed arm over her eyes and tried to take a few steadying breaths.

"What was your dream about?"

She could feel Hermione's eyes all over her and suddenly wished she was back home, in her own private room, where she could decipher all her cryptic and frightening dreams alone.

"I…I don't want to talk about it." She stammered and rolled away from her.

"You haven't read any of those books I pulled for you, have you?"

"No."

"Then you wouldn't know that a lot of research is being done on patients with post traumatic stress and the dreams and sleep that they have. If you can't get a decent night's sleep, Ginny, you will never get better. Even the Wizarding world knows the importance of a good night sleep. Your mind can't make the memories disappear until you aren't so emotionally attached to them. I think you need a sleeping draft."

"Thank you, Healer Hermione. But if I start taking sleeping drafts I will never wake up in time for class. And knowing my luck, lately, I'll slip into a coma or something." She turned back around and sat up.

"They're always about Harry, aren't they?" Hermione caught her eye and for a moment she wanted to shot her a dirty look, but held back. "Not romantic dreams, not fantasy's, but nightmares."

"And so what if they are? Like it matters? Like I'm supposed to hedge anything out of some suspicion I had during the battle. It's not always him; it's Neville and Dean as well. They all appear in my dreams, doing strange things and keeping me up at night." She crossed her arms over her pajamas and took a charged breath. "Like dreams have every helped me before."

"I just," Hermione paused, like she was choosing her next words very carefully. "I think it's something more. You have this…bond with Harry. You've always had this way with him."

"What do you mean?" She narrowed her eyes.

"We talked about this before, Ginny. Before we left, at the wedding, he was miserable to be around. It was like he always knew you were there, waiting, he just wouldn't allow himself to feel that, he hadn't flipped the switch on yet. Then once we were gone, and we were _all_ miserable it's like he flipped it and it was all that possessed his mind. Half Voldemort and half you. He's obsessed with you." Hermione was pondering it, not looking at her anymore.

"That's a good thing, right?" She felt her face scrunch up in thought as well.

"Never mind. Must be the late hour, don't I sound silly. Harry being obsessed with you like you're some kind of reward." She laughed and ran her hands over her face, then stood and went to turn down her bed.

"Yeah," Ginny settled back down as the lights dimmed in the room. "Silly." But to her, it didn't seem silly at all.

* * *

~*~

Saturday morning she was staring deeply into her tea mug willing her mind to wake up. She had gone back to sleep, but it wasn't very lasting and ended up being quite restless. Hermione seemed fine, flipping through the paper and eating toast. The owl's fluttered down into the Great Hall and she took a long drink of tea, hoping the caffeine would wake her up for the long day of class and homework ahead of her. She ran a hand over the bump on her head, it was a nasty purple color, but her almost completely back to normal color hair was hiding it well. She'd gotten lucky this time. She had outright refused to go get it fixed, it would have only alerted to all the teachers that she wasn't doing so well, and she knew that they were just waiting for that first slip up. Hermione picked up the letter that fell in front of her and smiled. Ron again.

She wouldn't have pegged her brother as a writer, he didn't seem to write all that often to Hermione over the summers before, but they had only been here a few weeks and she'd gotten almost a dozen. It seemed like Hermione glanced it over, but she knew better, the girl could read faster then Harry could fly. She passed it over to her without another word and she unfolded the parchment to see her brother's scrawl.

_Hey Love,_

_Hope this week hasn't been too hard on you. I had the funniest thing happen to me last night, wanted to share it with you. I had just gotten back from the shop; the house was dark, and I Flooed in. I suddenly hear someone in there rummaging around in the rooms. Instantly I felt his surge of controlled panic, like we had all last summer long. I get closer and hear the noise coming from Harry's room. I know this has to be nothing but trouble. I kick open the door and shoot out a stunner but it's hit immediately with a block. The lights flip on, and it's Harry!_

_He's frantically throwing all the clothes he owns into this bag and looks up at me and cracks this wide smile. He tells me a dragon broke loose in camp and torched up his tent. Said he always kept all the valuable stuff on him, but all the clothes were gone. They were about to leave for a new mission, someone was complaining about a Manticore or something lurking in the woods near Devon. He had to dash. Manticore's? Dragons? I think I'm in the wrong profession, 'Mione. You wouldn't blow your lid too bad if I shacked up with Harry would you?_

_He stopped only to ask me two questions. The first one was if Ginny liked her broom, and the second was if she was Captain or not. Why didn't you tell me he bought her a Cleansweep? Instead I stood there looking like an idiot yelling about buying expensive things for my sister and how it seemed sort of like a bribe, and what was he bribing her for. He just blew me off and then slung his bag over his shoulder. I told him she made Captain, like you said. That seemed to satisfy him and with a goodbye he took off again._

_I swear, he's turning into Charlie. Always popping in and out of the house at the strangest hours. Tell my darling sister that after seven years of friendship and countless life debts the man owes me, he only had questions for her. I'm sure that will make her day. She's doing alright? A Cleansweep? She better win the House Cup this year. I would never tell it to her face but she's the best Quidditch player in our family, and if she's got a brand new Cleansweep I don't think even Harry could stop her now. Keep her out of trouble will you?_

_All my love,_

_Ron_

She folded the letter back up and handed it over to Hermione. Her friend was giving her the biggest smile and she couldn't help but smile back.

"I still think she's going to say no, but you have my support."

"To cut back on my classes?" Ginny raised an eyebrow at her.

"No. But I will do everything in my power to make sure you pass this year, and you win that cup." Hermione gave her a grin and then bit off another piece of toast.

"Even if it means spying for me?" She leaned forward and arched her head toward the Ravenclaw table, the only real threat they were going to have this year.

"Especially if it means spying for you." Hermione laughed.

* * *

~*~

Author's Notes: Thanks to all the reviewers! You make me smile!


	18. Chapter 18

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 18~

_And for all you know_

_This could be_

_The difference between_

_What you need and what you want to be._

_The Difference by Matchbox 20_

* * *

~*~

The jacket was laid out on her bed, and she was debating on shrinking it down to fit, or just keeping it as is. She wanted to gain the weight back, she knew it would take time, but she also didn't want to be swimming in her clothes. Everything else had been altered to fit, but somehow the idea of altering her captain uniform seemed wrong. Classes were over for the day, the weekend had been nothing but homework and fitful sleep, all that was left was the first day of tryouts. She frowned at the jacket again and then altered it. Better to look the part. She dropped the vile into her jacket pocket and with a quick zip up moved for the door.

The common room was noisy and bustling. Students were studying, chasing each other, gossiping and whispering in corners, with paper airplanes and hovering objects floating across all the controlled chaos. Controlled because in the center of the common room on the nicest couches and chairs by the fire were Hermione and the other eighth year students. Nothing was going to get too out of control. She was sure Hermione would put an end to anything before it got too fun.

She descended the staircase and unrolled the parchment in her hand. All eyes in the common room turned to her, and she walked right up to the notice board and posted the list on top of all the other flyers.

"You have thirty minutes." She said to the room, and then moved for the portrait hole to make her way down. Before the door could close she heard all hell break loose in the common room and smiled.

* * *

~*~

She watched as every fourth and fifth year in her house lined up for their turn to try out for the very limited spots on her team. They were standing, leaning, or sitting on the pitch in the order she had put them. A quick look to the stands and Neville and Hermione were waving at her. Hermione had a notepad and pen in hand; Neville was just lying across several benches looking quite comfortable. She turned back to the line and appraised them. There were twelve, more boys then girls, but pretty close to even. They were all holding school brooms and muttering and whispering to each other.

"Alright," she raised her voice and waited for everyone to stop. "Thanks for coming out. You know there aren't that many spots on the team and we have a second day of tryouts on Wednesday. Each one of you will get five minutes to try out for the spot you want, and then I will post the results for who should come back for Wednesday on Tuesday." She looked down at the list and read off the first name.

"Pugh, Nicholas. Beater. You're up." She looked at the fifth year for a moment. He had sandy blond hair, dark blue eyes, and a smattering of freckles across his nose. On top of all that the kid was huge. She had a hard time thinking she had missed him all this time, surely someone like this would have stuck out, at least last year.

"I grew a bit this summer." He supplied when she realized her stare had been too long.

"Good. Let's see what you can do." She kicked open the box and looked over toward the hoops. Dean gave her a wave, signaling he was ready to assist with the tryouts and she threw her leg over the Cleansweep. "When you're ready Pugh release one of the Bludgers and give Hermione over there a wave."

She kicked up softly off the grass and her broom shot up into the sky. With a slight tug she stopped the ascent and lowered herself a bit. It was very, very different flying on a proper broom. She'd have to put in some time with this new advantage. Pugh shot up into the sky as well with a bat in hand and a Bludger chasing after him. Ginny summoned the Quaffle up from the kit on the grass and squinted over at Hermione. Pugh raised his hand and a deafening siren blared across the pitch. She gave Hermione a dirty look, but it was probably lost at this distance. Pugh, on the other hand, sprung into action and she heard his bat crack against the Bludger with a frightening intensity, the Bludger came screaming through the air at her and she dropped about ten feet immediately so it would whiz over her head.

She tucked the Quaffle tight against her body, now appreciative of altering the jacket to fit snugly, and darted down the pitch. Below her the remaining eleven prospects were screaming and cheering for them, and she could feel the reason why all on her own. It had been a long time since everyone had been able to have a little fun. It seemed like a year ago that she was able to play that disastrous pick up game with Harry, Ron and Hermione. But, even that game had been a blast while it lasted. There was another giant crack across the stadium and she could hear the Bludger gaining speed behind her, she turned hard to the left and felt it whiz right past her elbow, on the arm that was holding the Quaffle. This kid was good. He darted past her overhead to catch up with the ball and then cracked it at her again. She felt a moment of frustration. Sure, she was the only other player on the field, but he had such accuracy that it was making even getting toward Dean and the goals difficult. He'd be invited back.

The Bludger streamed right below her, nearly hitting her shoe and that obnoxious blow horn sounded again. The crowd below was cheering, Dean was clapping from the hoops, and Hermione gave her a big thumbs up. Hopefully all the prospects would be this good. Then again, it could just be an isolated incident. She lowered herself back down and threw the Quaffle to the grass, the Bludger came for her again but she caught it with a giant 'umph' and locked it back into place.

"Good show!" She gave him a pat on the back. Pugh turned red with embarrassment and then went back toward the line. She picked up the clipboard next to the box and called off the next name. "Leeves, Jessica. Seeker. You're up."

A slight girl, she assumed fourth year, with mousy brown hair and darting black eyes moved out in front of her. She was tiny enough to be a Seeker. She wasn't even sure what position she wanted to play yet, she could play any position, but couldn't finalize on Chaser or Seeker. If there was a Seeker that could beat her then she'd be Chaser. Out of the 27 people that wanted to try out, only two wanted to go for Seeker, and Jessica Leeves was one of them.

"Thanks." She meekly said and mounted her broom.

"No problem. When you're ready release the snitch and let's have a go at it." She kicked off from the ground. Jessica raised her hand, Hermione's annoying blow horn went off, and the snitch darted up into the air faster then Jessica could move on a school broom. That was going to be a problem, Ginny mused. The snitch took off towards the opposite side of the pitch and she looked over at Jessica Leeves. She was looking around frantically, not seeing the glittering ball at the opposite end doing loop and dips in the air. Ginny gave her five more seconds of looking in the wrong direction, the crowd below yelling and pointing for the girl, and then with a slight nudge of her broom took off for the other side of the pitch.

Jessica Leeves was far behind her as she gained speed, and then without much effort grabbed the golden ball in her hand. Hermione's horn went off and she flew back over to the kit. Jessica Leeves was already in tears on the pitch, her friends consoling her as Ginny strapped the Snitch back into place.

"Good try." She gave her a pat, it seemed to make the girl even more upset and she quickly left the field. "Right," she looked down at her clipboard. "Who's up next?"

* * *

~*~

"I have a bad feeling about today." She shifted her backpack, which should have been breaking her back but wasn't because of Hermione's handy charms work, and stalled outside of Ransach's classroom.

"Why? Are you feeling like getting in trouble?" Hermione looked over her own homework in the hallway. She had written far too much on the topic of dark objects and their use in the second war. Then again, Hermione would be the only expert on the subject here at school. They were getting their first assignment back today. The fear that Ransach was going to make everyone rehash all their war scars, on top of still trying to not pass out at memories, she had a dark inclination that today was going to be the day that something snapped inside her.

Ransach had only asked for as many words as it took, so being angry and still leery about the assignment she had only written a few words. Chamber of Secrets. Dumbledore's Army. Department of Mysteries. Underground. She knew she was about to get reprimanded, but wasn't quite sure why. Surely it would be Hermione's essay that would be the best, with the most to say, and the most for her to steal for her research.

"I just don't like this woman, Hermione. There's something very off about her." She shifted her bag again and Hermione just shook her head, annoyed, and walked into the classroom. They fell into their designated table and saw the stacks of papers across the Ransach's desk. The bell echoed through the halls and Ransach looked up from her work and smiled,

"Hello, again, everyone." She stood and started passing back the papers. The class fell silent as they looked over their essays. Ransach snaked through the rows of tables and backpacks and then finally landing on their group. She smiled brightly to everyone but her and then set her paper down.

"Miss Weasley, I'm afraid I'm going to need a little bit more explanation on your answers." She pointed to all the glowing red marks on the parchment. It looked like her paper was bleeding.

"Of course Professor." She started to move the parchment under all the books and quills she already had on her desk when Ransach's hand came down on the paper again and stopped her. She felt Hermione's eyes snap to the exchange, but this was what she'd been waiting for. Finally, finally, the woman was going to show her true colors, and then everyone wouldn't think she was crazy.

"I'd hate to have to give you half credit for your assignment. I'm sure you have much to say on each one of these topics. I'll give you a choice. You can come up front and speak on a few of these topics and I'll give you the full credit. Or you can take your assignment as is and start off in the hole this year."

Her hand was keeping the paper to the table; all eyes had snapped to them, all talk had been silenced to see what would transpire. She didn't want to be in the hole, but it was a dirty trick to single her out when surely at least one other person in this room had turned in less than acceptable homework.

"Ginny, just do it. Everyone already knows everything anyway." Hermione whispered to her, but the classroom was so quiet that everyone heard her. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see a few people nodding. With a steadying breath she ripped the paper out from Ransach's hands and glared at the woman.

"Thank you, Professor."

She stood up and followed Ransach to the front of the room. Standing slightly off from the center of the desk she looked over her shoulder.

"I believe the second question will suffice. Explain your answers for that." Ransach folded her hands neatly across the desk and Ginny pressed her lips together to keep from flying across the table and punching her.

"Explain in as many words as necessary any part you played in the second rise of the Dark Lord." Ginny shook the parchment and took deep breath. "As I'm sure you all remember," she started and the class laughed, this seemed to piss Ransach off so they mumbled back down into silence. "Lucius Malfoy dropped the enchanted diary of Tom Riddle into my school books on my first year here. Which lead to me open the Chamber of Secrets and unleash the basilisk upon the school, petrifying several different people, and almost making the school close. I was unaware of what I was doing at the time. It wasn't until I woke up in the Chamber of Secrets to see Harry slowly dying and myself close to death, that I knew what was going on. But we were saved, the diary, which turned out to be a horcrux, was destroyed and I was allowed to come back to school." Most of the Gryffindor's in the class shook their heads like she was telling an old tale. Most of the Ravenclaw's had their mouths dropped open. Hermione gave her a sympathetic look; this wasn't even half the tale. "Is that enough, Professor?"

"Please continue." Ransach shook her head.

"Right. I laid low for a couple years; people were scared of me for a while there. Then sacked up with all the Dumbleore's Army people during Umbridge's evil reign." At this everyone started nodding. "A few of us went off with Harry to try and save Sirius Black at the Department of Mysteries, it was a trap. We got bloodied up a bit, and then Aurors came and saved us." She swallowed hard, knowing that she was leaving an awful lot out on that one. The class was mixed again, some knowing where the holes were, other's not knowing any of the information it seemed. "Is that enough, Professor?"

"No. Please, continue." Ransach snapped, apparently she had wanted all the gory details. She rolled her eyes at the wall and looked back out at the class.

"Then last year, as almost all of you remember, the school was taken over by Death Eaters and Neville, Luna, and I started the Underground to help get some of the students out of the school and to safety. Seamus and Michael…several of you were there. You know what happened. And the tunnel we were able to open was how Harry, Ron, and Hermione as well as all the other Aurors and fighters were able to get into the battle. And that's it. That's how I'm directly linked to the rise and fall of the Dark Lord." She spun around and tried to keep a neutral face. "It that all Professor?"

"You may sit down." She calmly replied and gestured out toward her desk. Very carefully, so she wouldn't trip and fall over everyone's things, she made her way back to Hermione. She was more angry then anything, but she could feel all her friend's eyes upon her, waiting to see if she was going to pass out. She sat down, Ransach stood up, Hermione slid over, and she felt her cool hands grab her arm firmly.

"You did great." She squeezed her.

"Do you believe me now?" She fumed and shoved the parchment into her bag as Ransach opened up her books, chalk flying across the board. Hermione went to open her mouth and reply but Ransach's eyes zeroed in on them and she started her lecture.

"We're going over shielding defense today." The chalk made a horrible screeching sound, everyone winced, but then it quickly went away and Ransach continued. "Open your books."

* * *

~*~

She was pouring over the notes that Hermione had made for the tryouts. She had taken several things into consideration. How much longer the players had at school, how much experience they had, height, weight, build, broom, class schedule, extracurricular activities, even who they might be dating. Hermione argued that if you wanted a well organized team you needed to foresee any kind of problem that might arise. She couldn't agree more, her fifth year in particular was testament to that. And it was Hermione's notes that had made it easier for her to choose the lone two players that would proceed to the next tryout, Pugh and a fifth year Chaser, Daniel McAbby. Now they would have to stand up against the much more experienced players. It would make an interesting final day of tryouts.

Hermione was going to the Ravenclaw tryouts this afternoon to get a scope on what they might be doing, as Ravenclaw would be the only real threat to them this year. Too few Slytherin's had come back, they would have a scrappy team, and Hufflepuff was always easy to beat. It almost seemed like they didn't care if they won or lost, which was quite annoying, but good strategy wise. She added McAbby and Pugh to the end of the list and rolled the parchment back up.

Neville sat down right next to her, his body incredibly warm even through his robes. He grabbed the parchment out of her hands and scrolled down it himself.

"You know Seamus might kill himself if you don't put him on the team. Do you want that blood on your hands?" He mused to the scroll, smiling. She socked him in the shoulder and took the scroll back.

"If he's the best for the team he makes it. I'm not playing any favorites. I want to win." She pulled her feet up and crossed her legs on the couch, her right knee falling against Neville's thigh. They were both in regular clothes, classes being over, waiting for dinner. She couldn't even count how many times this had happened last year, and she realized in that moment that she had missed this.

"I just know he'll jump off the Ravenclaw tower to his death, splatter himself all over the grounds, it will be disgusting. All because you wouldn't make him Keeper." Neville sighed and then turned to look at her and laughed.

"Why would he be in the Ravenclaw tower?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"You haven't heard? Rumor has it that he's secretly dating a girl in Ravenclaw." Neville stage whispered to her.

"How dare him!" She stage whispered back and they both started laughing. She pulled at her light blue sweater and settled it back down.

"You look good in that color, Ginny." He abruptly said.

"Thank you stylist Neville." She laughed.

"I just mean," he stopped for a moment, blushing slightly. "Last year we wore a lot of black and robes and stuff. You've been wearing lots of colors, and blue looks good on you." He squeezed her knee and she laughed because it tickled. "Giving me a hard time for a complement."

"Sorry," she half yelled and half laughed. He was still tickling her. "Wasn't expecting it." She started slapping his hands away, both of them laughing, when someone said over their commotion,

"So are you posting that scroll or not?"

Neville dropped his hands; she fell against him, now a jumble of arms and jostled clothing, and looked up at Dean, tapping his foot. His eyes roamed over the two of them a frown on his mouth. He didn't care about the scroll, that much she could read that from his face.

"Oh she's going. Don't get yourself all worked up." Neville laughed and disentangled himself from her to stand. Neville hadn't seemed to notice Dean's dark mood, but then again, Neville wouldn't. She had spent enough time with her ex-boyfriend to pick up on that look. He used to do it all the time when Harry would pass by them. At the time she had thought it funny that Dean was watching Harry more then she was, but in retrospect he'd had a reason to be worried.

"I'll post it now." She lowly said and stood up as well. Dean nodded and followed her up to the board. The common room was buzzing with activity, everyone just waiting for dinner to start.

"What are you playing at, Ginny?" He touched her elbow to grab her attention.

"What are _you_ playing at, Dean?" She whirled around on him, matching his frown. Dean dropped his hand, but stayed very close.

"Don't lead the man on." He hissed at her. "There are spies everywhere."

"Lead who on?" She blanched for a moment and then narrowed her eyes at Dean. The parchment crunched in her hand as she balled her fists up on her waist. "Just wait a minute. Are you talking about Neville?"

"Ginny you have to be careful. I hear these girls whispering around the common room and in the Great Hall," he started but she cut over him.

"That was perfectly innocent. We used to do that all the time last year." She fumed, her voice rising just a tiny bit.

"Last year," Dean started fiercely, "you were single. You need decide what you want Ginny. Because you can't have both."

"How dare you!" She hissed and punched him in the shoulder. Her fist instantly hurt and she suddenly remembered another reason she had liked Dean, he was extremely muscular, quite attractive.

"Don't give me that." He lowly growled at her. "Me of all people, don't give me that." He crossed his arms and waited for her to retort anything, but she didn't have a single thing to say. Looking back she'd always felt bad about her decision to tell Dean yes, and yet, at the same time it changed her life. She quickly spun and tacked the try-out list up onto the board and they were instantly bombarded with everyone trying to get a look. Dean wrapped his hand around her wrist and pulled her toward the Fat Lady. They pushed through into the empty corridor and he took a long breath.

"Look, I'm sorry to have said that. The past is the past. But, you can't keep dancing this line, Ginny."

"What line?" She exhaled and slumped against the wall. "Neville is only my friend. Only. What is it that you and Hermione see that I don't?"

"It's not just us. If what Neville is telling me is the truth you should know. Harry for sure knows it. He likes you Ginny. More then just a friend." He added as her mouth opened to start her retort. "I'm honestly surprised you haven't noticed. Either you don't know or you're refusing to see what's right in front of your face. But either way you're leading both of them on."

"That's not fair." She snapped at him.

"You're being cruel. You shouldn't be sneaking off into the forest and hanging all over him, and let him follow you around like a puppy if you don't like him back." Dean barked at her. He was very angry, and she could feel her own anger start to boil to the surface. "Neville told me what happened in the hospital, with the funeral and the Jello."

"The Jello again?" She shouted, and Dean backed up. "Can we please move past the Jello?"

"You see, this is the problem. Harry and Neville were fighting against each other and you're not even aware of it. Can you honestly tell me that you didn't know then? Can you honestly tell me that you don't know now?" Dean shook his head flabbergasted.

Without warning, without control, her mind shot her back to dark, brooding, jealous green eyes. She had known, at least of Harry's jealousy. But it seemed, at the time, to be more toward the fact that she was friends with Neville then anything. Surely Harry knew it was only him she wanted. Had ever wanted as a matter of fact. Or did he? An uneasy feeling started to fill her, and her silence made Dean nervous. That in turn made her nervous.

"I…thought he was jealous of our friendship."

"He can be quite obsessed in that way, but no, Ginny. Girls always talk about how stupid boys are but we see a lot. And unless you tell Neville to lay off or break up with Harry you are just making this messier and messier for yourself." He dropped his head a bit and put a hand on her shoulder. "I know what it's like to be lead on by you. I hope it wasn't intentional, but it still stung."

"I did like you Dean, I still like you, but as a friend." She felt herself blush and internally moan all at the same time. "I mean, we were always fighting, it wasn't a good match."

"But you don't deny it." He sadly smiled at her.

"In the beginning, I had no idea. But near the end there, I could see it coming. Harry's easy to read that way." She half smiled at him. "It was good while it lasted."

"We did fight too much. You get angry at the littlest things." Dean brightened a little.

"No, it was you! You kept provoking me. It was like you were smothering me with kindness. I'm not quite a damsel in distress you know." She teased and then pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry, Dean. I'm sorry for everything that happened. You're a good friend."

"Yeah, yeah," he laughed, but hugged her back. "Just make up your mind, will you? I don't think I can have a conversation this awkward again." He let go and looked over his shoulder, Hermione was coming up the hall with a stack of books and a quill behind her ear.

"Ginny!" She called up upon seeing them and rushed over. Dean moved back, away from them, and with a little wave took off for the Great Hall. She waved back, and felt Hermione's eyes comb over her.

"What?" She cautiously asked.

"What were you two talking about?" Hermione pulled out her wand and with a wordless flick her books were floating next to them. Her conversation with Dean had been quite awkward, and if what he was saying was true she didn't want to re-hash it all again with Hermione. So she decided to lie.

"Quidditch." She supplied and held her breath. Hermione shook her head, obviously not believing her.

"At any rate, you're going to clobber Ravenclaw. Michael Corner is their captain, and he's had the weakest group so far. They might get better with some practice, but Gryffindor is by far the strongest team this year." Hermione smiled and handed over her report.

"Thanks. This will be really great. I'll have to look at it tonight." She folded it up and put it in her back pocket. The door to the common room opened up as a flood of students started to make their way down for dinner. Neville made a beeline for them through the crowd and smiled at Hermione,

"So how'd it go? Have we got a chance?"

Hermione seemed startled that Neville wanted to talk to her but started answering. Ginny couldn't help but feel the same way. Hermione and Neville were friends far before she and Neville had been, but other then the Quidditch tryouts they didn't typically make small talk. Dean's conversation bounced around in her head and she held her breath. She was very confused. But rather then think about it she pushed it down with everything else and followed them to dinner.

* * *

~*~

_Her gray dress was billowing around her knees; her feet were bare and cold in the lapping shore of Brighton Beach. It was night. She only had a moment to look around and see the empty beach before a thick and dense fog rolled in from the sea. Within a moment everything closed in with gray fog and she closed her eyes to try and get her bearings. When she opened her eyes back up she found herself in a small corner of the library, her fifth year. _

_Her dream self walked up to the table and saw her fifth year self hunched over books and parchment, scratching out things, turning pages, and sighing. Her fifth year self looked up for a moment and smiled, and from behind her dream self Harry came up to the table and sat down right next to her. She remembered this day. It was one of her favorite memories._

_Her dream self watched as Harry leaned across the small space and leaned over to brush his lips in a light kiss on the crown of her head._

_ "Alright, so what do you need help with?" He looked over her books. She just laughed and turned another page._

_ "If you could do all this homework for me that'd be great."_

_ "Charms?" He shook his head slightly. "Sorry, I might not be much help there." He leaned back a bit and then ran his fingers through her hair. She watched herself smile, covertly, and then turn her focus back onto her books. It would always make her melt when he would touch her hair. This was why this day was one of her favorite memories. He'd sat there all day, playing with her hair, as she did her homework. He'd speak up and give her advice every once in a while, but for the most part he stayed silent. A few times people came toward them, but he had waved them off. It was one of the only days they had spent almost entirely together while at school, and she hadn't even been able to pay attention to him._

_ Her dream self watched as he spun her long, wavy, mane around his fingers, and smile. Then it started to fade, slowly hazing over to gray. She fought against it, trying to stop it from leaving. She badly needed a reminder of the good days. But everything went dark and she was back in her body, but still asleep. She heard her shoes clicking across the stone and before her sight even came back she knew where she was. Back at Hogwarts, but her cynical side knew it wouldn't be anything good. Sure enough the black quickly cleared and she looked at her passing reflection in some armor. Second year. She bumped into someone and muttered,_

_ "Sorry."_

_ "Ginny?"_

_It was Harry. Everyone had been giving her a wide berth these days, half way through the year and this was the first time she had actually bumped into someone. Of course it would be Harry. _

_ "Oh, hi. Sorry." She went to move around him but he kept talking. It was strange; he didn't have his constant circle of admirers or even his 'shadows', Hermione and her brother, around him._

_ "How have you been? I haven't seen you all term."_

_ "Good." She smiled briefly and then looked back down at the floor. "And you?" She might as well be polite. He had saved her life. She hadn't even been able to thank him for it properly; they were never able to be alone. This was her moment, and her tongue tied._

_ "Oh, brilliant. It's good to be back." He smiled and shifted his books. She heard her brother's voice shout out from down the hallway._

_ "Harry! There you are mate."_

_ "Better go. Good to see you, Ginny."_

_He smiled and then turned and moved toward Ron. She felt her chest hitch; her tears start to build, and managed to choke out,_

_ "Thank you."_

_But he was already gone, and she had missed her chance. She wiped at her face, making sure there weren't any traces of tears and continued to move down the hall. Students moved out of her way, teacher's gave her a longer glance, and the practiced emptiness she had been building all summer kicked into place. If she could just turn to stone, like all the people she had forced it upon last year…maybe that's how she could fix it all. Or at least start her atonement. Stony silence, it was the only way._

She woke up and wiped at her face. She had woken up before her alarm again. She was still exhausted, like she hadn't slept at all. And now she couldn't shake that empty feeling from her current self. It was almost comfortable, familiar, like a sweater you had forgotten in the back of your closet. Hollow and quiet, not the moshing, bubbling, mess her emotions had been lately. She sat on her bed just soaking up the calming effect of not feeling anything, the simple and yet terrifying beauty of apathy, and then Hermione started to stir.

"Ginny? Are you awake?" She yawned.

"Yeah." Her calm self answered.

"Harry sent you something last night. I put it on your nightstand." She stretched and looked at her clock. "Ugh, I need more sleep."

Hermione turned back over and snuggled back down into her pillows. She looked to her stand and saw the small scrap of paper. It looked like he had ripped it from the edge of a newspaper or notes of some kind. Written in small lettering, in his very familiar scrawl was:

_You, me, Hogsmeade weekend? -H_

* * *

~*~

"If I have to tell you to shut up one more time Dean I'm going to strangle you." She warned and pointed a finger at him. Dean threw his hands up defensively and then nodded in compliance.

"Sorry, Captain."

"Don't you forget it." She growled at him. It made everyone laugh. "Right, stack up. I want Team A on that side of the pitch," she pointed to the far side. "I want Team B on this side. I want clean play. I want you to do your best. And I don't want any cheek out of any of you!" She pointed at Dean again. Everyone laughed, but took off for their perspective sides.

Final day of tryouts, she had already weeded out all the rest of the students. Now she was just down to the final casting. Two Chasers. Two Beaters. One Keeper. And two alternates. The other Seeker hadn't worked out, which just left her. It was a mix of all different years, all different intensity, and a balanced mix of girls and guys, and they were hungry. She couldn't remember a time when she was at school that people were so passionate about making the house team.

Hermione and Neville waved their hellos from the stands and with a thumbs up Hermione flicked her wand and that ridiculous air horn sound rocked through the pitch and the teams got to work. They were moving quickly and smoothly across the pitch. She had a feeling that the older students would clobber the younger ones so she stacked the teams evenly. That way it could give everyone a chance to showcase their talents, evenly. Well, as evenly as they could.

Pugh cracked a Bludger right at Dean's head, barely missing it by an inch. Dean was so surprised that he lost his grip on the Quaffle for a moment, but having several years on Pugh quickly recovered. Pugh smirked at him, but took off after his Bludger again. Pugh was going to make it. She flew above the game and over to Hermione.

"Pugh."

"Got it!" She yelled back. Ginny looked back out at the game. Team A was up ten points to zero. She scanned the stands and saw quite a few students out in small clusters watching the game progress. Michael Corner was to be expected, flanked by his team. Several clusters of Hufflepuff's were laughing and talking, but keeping their eyes on the game. A few first and second year Slytherin's were watching it with interest, but not a very vested kind. None of the higher years were there, not that she expected them. Of course there were always the collection of Gryffindor's that showed up to everything.

There was a sudden blur of activity as someone knocked the Quaffle out of Dean's hands with a well placed check and dropped down to grab the ball.

"Good show!" She yelled out and balanced herself on her broom to clap. Her team didn't show any interest, more worried about losing their focus and thus losing their spot. It was a flutter of activity, Quaffle's thrown, blocks, checks, and the always satisfying sound of a well batted bludger.

McAbby, the younger year Chaser, took another run at Dean. Darting left, sweeping under him, and then shooting up without care for his well being (it appeared) to knock the Quaffle out from under Dean's arm with a well placed fist. Dean let out a shriek of surprise, quite girly in nature, and fumbled around with his broom, but it was too late. McAbby had already snatched the falling Quaffle away and darted across the field, his other Chaser and Beaters forming a protective semi-circle around him as he sped toward the goal. Ginny shot her eyes at Dean, who had been momentarily stunned but was trying to gain speed. The crowd jumped to their feet, and McAbby dodged left and charged right, shaking Seamus, and sailed the Quaffle through the hoop. It was a magnificent display, the small gathering of Hogwarts students jumped up and down cheering for McAbby. She looked over her shoulder at Hermione who gave her a thumbs up, already way ahead of her.

Seamus threw the Quaffle at Dean with some choice words, and then everything picked up again. The intensity of the players seemed to racket up another notch. The remaining hopefuls were jittery now, especially the older students who hadn't been expecting to be outshone by new comers. It played on, and on, she let the game continue until she felt everyone had been given a chance to at least attempt to show off their skill. The sun was starting to set against the mountains when she flew over to Hermione and made a slicing motion across her neck, Hermione nodded and waved her wand sounding the alarm, and causing everyone involved both players and spectators to jump with surprise.

The Quaffle dropped to the ground with a plunk and Pugh and Seamus caught the still whirling Bludgers. Everyone moved down toward the pitch and she lowered herself as well.

"Good luck!" Neville called out tauntingly to her and she gave him an annoyed look, but it only made him laugh. Upon landing everyone lined up and she dismounted and rubbed her hands together.

"I'm really impressed. This is one of the best groups I've seen in a long time. You have all done quite well. But, I only have so many spots." She gave the entire line a smile trying to make eye contact with each and every one of them. "Pugh you'll be first beater, Bellinger second beater, Thomas first chaser, McAbby second chaser, Finnigan you're keeper, Stark first alternate, and finally Nolan as second alternate. Thanks everyone for trying out."

Her team at least had half a brain to not fully celebrate until the other students had left. Once they had cleared the pitch she gave everyone a smile and jubilant shouts echoed off the far walls created an almost doubled effect of noise. She let everyone bounce around, slap each other on the back and the such before she rose her right hand and they quieted down.

"Okay, so you made the team!" She gave them a cheeky grin. "I just want to warn you now," she let the smile fall off. "If you played with Harry or if you were here when Wood was around…this will be nothing like that."

The team all smiled and started nudging each other, laughing a bit, but then it all stuttered to a stop as she crossed her arms,

"It will be worse. I do not," she paused to punctuate the word, "intend to _ever_ lose. I want to make it abundantly clear that this will not be an easy season for anyone involved. There is much more at stake here."

"Which is what?" Seamus gave her a wary glance.

"Professor Turnsdale let me know he's bringing a scout." She let that sink in. Faces dropped, some turned pale, but others had that determined look she could feel within her own self. "I don't want to turn any of you away, but if that is going to be too much pressure you should back out now." She waited. No one left. "That being said Hermione has been doing quite a bit of research for us and has come to the conclusion that we are the strongest team. But," she stopped again to keep them focused. "Just because we are the strongest doesn't mean we need to slack off. The scout won't want to see us just flicking away Bludgers and flying circles around these teams. The scout will want to see teamwork, and talent, and dedication."

She stopped and looked at them all, now that determined look on each and every face. The sun had set against the mountains and everything was starting to turn cold and damp.

"I've booked the pitch as often as possible. I know we all have classes and things to do, no one knows that more then I do. But you don't get a shot like this often, and I for one am not going to waste it. Now," she turned around and moved to the small stack of uniforms she had left against the kit. Picking them up she held out the first one, "who wants to play for Gryffindor?"

* * *

~*~

_This time the wind ripped at her billowing gray dress, sending long strips of it trembling off into the angry ocean. It had never been so windy, or angry, or wild there before. She was becoming accustomed to the cold spray and slippery rocks, but something vengeful was in the air. Lightning was breaking across enormous banks of clouds. They were so vast and low she felt small in comparison. Almost as if she'd never realized just how big the sky was until it thundered and threatened above her. The wind howled at her again, slapping at her bare arms and legs, tugging on her dress, stinging her eyes with the spray and surf. She lifted her left hand to protect her face and caught the sight of a very delicate and small gold band around her ring finger. She spread her fingers wide to look at it in amazement, when the ocean pulled back before her and sent a wave of deadly gray water over her head. She tried to scream._

"Miss Weasley?" The voice broke through her panic and she shot up in her desk, banging her leg against the table and moaning low in her throat. One side of her face was hot and sticky from sleeping on the Potions table; the other was freezing from being in the dungeon. Relief that she wasn't actually about to die washed over her to be quickly replaced by fear. She looked up at Professor Slughorn with wide eyes. "Perhaps you can enlighten us to the importance of knotgrass in a potion."

He gave her a benevolent kind of smile, which disarmed her. So many years with Snape and you half expected a book to come flying at your head for falling asleep in class. But it was the way that he looked at her, like she had something to give that would belay any kind of punishment he would deliver, that made his smile a tad disarming. Hermione kicked her hard under the table and gently caressed the page she was looking at; she glanced down at the book, suddenly realizing what Hermione had done,

"Polyjuice Potion, professor. That's um…when you use knotgrass." She stuttered and held her breath, hoping she had read this entire exchange correctly.

"Thank you Miss Granger." Slughorn chuckled slightly and then waddled back up toward the front. "Now that everyone seems to be awake again, let's get started."

"What happened?" Hermione hissed at her and lit the fire under their cauldron. Slughorn continued to lecture up front and she glanced at the board, feeling disoriented and lost. She could barely remember coming into Potions, let alone having enough time to fall asleep.

"I have the lacewing flies up front, today is the 21st day. You have the rest of the class to get working on this, which leaves about a half hours time. Go!"

"I fell asleep." Ginny mumbled back, opening her book to the correct page and running down the list of thing necessary to brew the potion.

"Obviously. You were twitching and fidgeting. Was it another nightmare?" Hermione lowered her voice, but she still felt paranoid and slightly annoyed with her. She pushed off from the table and moved up to the front, stashing all the ingredients needed into her little bowl and came back to the table. Hermione was tapping her foot expectantly.

"Of course it was another nightmare, but there's nothing to do about it now. Let's just get to work on this, it seems quite hard." She spilled the ingredients out onto the table.

"Bah!" Hermione waved her off. "I could do this in my sleep by now. Tell me Ginny. Maybe I can help." She grabbed the flies and started to dissect them with a bored sort of attention. Ginny had a flash of a twelve-year-old Hermione brewing this potion with Moaning Myrtle goading her, and smiled.

"It's always the same thing." She pulled out her small silver knife and started cutting up the knotgrass. She looked around and saw several students looking over their shoulders and whispering at each other. Instantly she clammed up. Hermione, sensing her hesitation waved her wand, wordlessly, and then looked back down at the flies.

"Alright, tell me now, I put a Confundus charm on the room. Anyone listening in will only hear gibberish." She poked at the flames and then fixed her stare on her.

"I'm in a gray dress, one I don't own. I'm looking out at the ocean, Brighton Pier is to my left, and every time it's different but it always starts out that way." She piled the first clump of knotgrass and started on the next.

"Different how?"

"Sometimes the ocean is calm, lately it has been very angry…Hermione…really, I mean it's just dreams." She stabbed her knife into the table and grabbed the boomslang.

"It's a reoccurring dream. You should tell Jenna. You should be writing all these things down. It's imperative to your recovery." She picked up the first stack of knotgrass.

"I think you should be worrying more about what Ron is getting you for your birthday then my stupid dreams." She deflected and hid the sigh of relief that she wanted to make when Hermione's face lit up with excitement.

"You know, don't you?"

"Maybe." She cut up the boomslang and looked at her out of the corner of her eye.

"So he remembered this year? Interesting. He must be planning something." Hermione chewed on the end of her quill and became lost in thought, gently stoking the fire under the brewing Polyjuice Potion.

"Looking wonderful as usual Miss Granger. Nice work on preparing the materials Miss Weasley. Keep up the good work ladies." Slughorn commented and then continued to move along. Ginny kept her mouth shut so he wouldn't hear a line of gibberish come out, and then Hermione started up again.

"Hopefully it's not just another box of chocolates and some quills."

"I'm pretty sure he's taken it a little more serious this year." Ginny picked up the pile of boomslang and went to pour it in when Hermione's hand shot out and stopped her.

"You get a smoother transition when you put them in a piece at a time." She took her hand back and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Now do you want to be me, or do I want to be you?"

Ginny just looked back down at her cutting board. That was a very loaded question.

* * *

~*~

By the time dinner had rolled around Hogwarts was smoldering with renewed gossip about what her and Hermione had been talking about. The sympathetic looks and quick pats on the back were only managing to slowly bring her simmering temper to a boil. Food looked unappealing, as usual, so she just slugged back several large mugs of the strongest tea on the table.

"Ginny, you really should eat something." Hermione offered up a buttered roll to tempt her.

"You really shouldn't provoke me." She grumbled and pushed her still empty plate away as if to prove her point. Hermione let out a loud and annoyed sigh and turned back to her food. The chatter started to hiss and hush a bit and she pushed back from the table to leave, bumping right into someone.

"Oh, Ginny."

"Sorry." She looked up to see Luna, and relief broke across her face. Ever since her fight with Dean she had been avoiding Neville and the rest of his lot. It made her quite surly and moody, but Dean did have a point. She didn't want to be leading Neville on, even though she thought everyone was just overreacting.

"I heard about your sleeping issue. I wanted to give you this."

But before Luna could take it out of her pocket she seized her arm and started moving her toward the doors out of the Great Hall.

"Sorry Luna, but I can't take the whispers anymore." She muttered to her as they broke free from the tables and into the nearly deserted halls.

"I fully understand. It must be quite a strain on you to be back where your brother was murdered." Luna put a soothing hand on her shoulder, but Ginny flinched inward like the words had stabbed her.

"They're not whispering about," but she choked on his name and fell silent.

"Oh. My apologizes, I thought, perhaps, that might be the reason. Obviously it must be because of your friendship with Neville." Luna slowly started moving down the hallway, playing with something in her pocket. Her clear voice was echoing off the walls, and Ginny stopped to look at her.

"What?"

"He did kill that giant snake, quite heroic of him. Then again most of the Gryffindor's I know are quite heroic, you included." She gave her a wide twinkling smile and Ginny smiled back. "I've just heard lots of whispers in the corridors and alcoves. Usually it's your name and his."

"It's because of Harry, Luna." She shook her head, bemused. Luna looked at her, confused.

"But why would they be talking about your and Neville's relationship if it had to do with Harry?" She frowned, and looked off down the hallway, contemplating. The stabbing in her gut quickly flash froze.

"What do you mean, Luna? Relationship?" She prodded, but Luna shook herself awake and pulled something out of her pocket.

"My mistake. Dean told me you fell asleep in Potions today. It sounded like Gnargles to me. I thought you should have this." She opened her hand and a small white stone, much like an opal, rolled down the thin red satin cord to rest below her hand. "It's a Gnargle necklace, you won't fall asleep again." She held her hand out further and Ginny gently took the smooth cord and examined the stone. About the size of a button, and tethered to the cord by a silver casing, she smiled at the tiny gem.

"Thank you, Luna." She instantly threw it over her neck and settled it down on top of her robes. Luna beamed at her.

"I hope you don't fall asleep again, Ginny. But I understand. I've been quite tired myself." She paused to look at one of the pictures, a woman endlessly pulling up a pail of water from a well. The woman in the painting gave them both a pained look and then continued on her task.

"I'm just not sleeping very well, that's all. Nightmares." She added on before Luna could jump to her very odd conclusions.

"It seems you're thinking too much, or you have a very difficult decision to make. Usually when people are plagued by nightmares it has to do with inner turmoil in their lives. Are you in some kind of trouble, Ginny?" Luna gave her a concerned look. Ginny shook her head and fingered the Gnargle necklace.

"Not any more then usual."

"Then it must be a difficult decision. Your brain is trying to help you decide, since you refuse to." Luna looked past Ginny's shoulder down the hall and gave a tiny wave. She heard Hermione's familiar step and huff of annoyed air from behind her.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you." Hermione let out in an exasperated tone. "That's what all that research was for."

"Then why didn't you just say it?" She turned to the side to frown at Hermione.

"So you could learn it, instead of me just giving you all the answers." Hermione looked harassed, Luna smiled at them both, a cluster of Hufflepuff's went muttering past.

"But something that simple, you could have told me."

"You and Harry deserve each other." She rolled her eyes and shoved a scroll into her hand. "This came for you after you sulked off." She finished with a clipped tone and took off down the hall.

"She seems upset." Luna observed.

"That's the effect I have on people lately." Ginny sighed in response and unrolled the scroll. She had been expecting it, but her stomach still dropped into her knees. It was from St. Mungo's; it was time for her appointment. The letter detailed that the Headmistresses fireplace would be arranged for her, and she had to arrive by 9AM sharp. "Lovely."

"Perhaps they can give you another Gnargle necklace at your appointment. It seems you need all the help you can get these days." Luna gave her a consoling pat and then turned the corner to move toward her common room. The whispers started up immediately, like dead leaves across the pavement, and she stalked off toward her room.

* * *

~*~

Her legs swinging off the side of the hospital bed, she blew her long hair off her face again. Jenna was running late, even though she was early. It was hard for her to make it to anything on time, let alone an appointment on the one day she had no classes on. But she examined her muddy, worn sneakers again and gave them a sad smile. Her Mum had told her to toss them as she was packing her trunk for school, but she'd worn these sneakers on the night Harry told her everything. She'd never get rid of them now. Yet another physical reminder of him, she could still feel his hand on her wrist if she closed her eyes. She was about to loose herself in a moment of memory when the door swung wide open.

"Miss Weasely. Sorry to be running late." Jenna swept into the room and tossed her now growing file onto the sideboard as she ran her wand up and down muttering things under her breath. Without hesitation she slapped a silver strip to her forehead and scribbled down some notes. Ginny tried to roll her eyes up to see the color the slip would be when Jenna ripped it off with out much warning and frowned at it. She ran a hand across her tender forehead and managed,

"What's the problem?"

"Light blue." She showed her the slip. "You're not fully healed. I'm also picking up that you are malnourished and building another depression."

"What, how?" She wrapped her arms around herself, and Jenna's eye roamed over her.

"Take off your jacket, please." She held out her hand to receive it and Ginny bit her tongue. She unzipped the over sized jacket she'd nicked from Harry's apartment before leaving for school and handed it over. Jenna clucked her tongue at her.

"Still so skinny. Is it that you like being this thin?" She gave her a hard stare.

"No. I hate being this thin. Everyone stares. But I'm not hungry. And I don't have Harry force feeding me anymore, so the weight came off again." She raised her chin, attempting to keep some dignity about herself.

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this, but I think a supplement is in order." She looked away to scribble the note down in her file, and then onto a pad for prescriptions. "How is your mental well being, Miss Weasley?"

"Fine." She lied.

"I see." Jenna's eyes roamed over her again, and she held the silence between them.

"Not fine." She huffed. Jenna nodded for her to continue. "I'm having problems sleeping, so it's messing up everything else." It was all she felt comfortable offering up without sounding like a nutter.

"Just sleeping? You're not moody? Irritable? Quick tempered? Forgetful? Sad? Is it really just not being able to sleep? Insomnia?" Jenna crossed her arms over her hospital scrubs, the small strip of sky blue dangling from her hand.

"I'm all those things regularly." She played it close to the chest, but every single word had hit closer to home then she would have liked.

"Then perhaps just a sleeping potion is in order. We can get you back to sleep and you can be your usual grumpy self." Jenna scribbled down a note in her file and as the pen hit the prescription tablet it tumbled from her mouth,

"Wait." She put her head in her hands. First upset that her subconscious would say anything at all. But secondly upset that she'd have to unravel the long and complicated reasons she would second guess banishing the nightmares in the first place.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me?" Jenna conjured a chair with very high legs, and sat down near the end table, crossing her arms on her chest.

"Is it possible that I could be having premonitions? That I could be linked, or channeling, or something?" She said between her fingers.

"Go on." Jenna prodded and Ginny dropped her hands.

"It's the same thing, every time. I'm at this beach, and I see the ocean, and it's always different. Sometimes calm, sometimes a tidal wave, sometimes angry. Then it's almost like I blink and I'm in a memory, or some kind of horrible twisted reality. I always know everyone in my dreams…" She trailed off.

"But you don't know why you're having them?" Jenna provided, she nodded and leaned back onto her hands on the mattress.

"I really wish they'd stop so I can sleep. But at the same time if I am sensing something I don't want them to." She tried to answer without giving too much away. Flashes of memories and the sense of foreboding that always filled her after sleep seeped through her control.

"Tell me one of them." Jenna leaned forward, setting her pen down on the tablet.

"The f..first one?" She stuttered. Jenna nodded. "I was in a wheat field, and I'd stabbed Harry and Neville through the hearts. I'd killed them. And Dean was horrified and asked what I was going to do." She fidgeted and looked down at her hands.

"And Dean is?" Jenna's voice was calm and steady.

"My ex-boyfriend." She lamely answered as the beginning of the answer started to materialize in her brain. "Maybe that one is a little obvious."

"Not exactly. It would appear that you are torn between a decision. Dean would represent the voice of reason within your life, and since he is romantically removed from the equation his question would hold a less threatening tone. Are you torn between a decision?" Jenna tossed the blue strip to the trash can appearing clinically indifferent.

"I don't think so. But everyone else seems to." She looked out the window at the changing trees.

"Perhaps it is because while you might have made the decision in your mind your physical actions speak differently?" Jenna tapped her long, slender fingers against her mouth.

"Maybe. Or maybe everyone should just mind their own business." She grumbled. Jenna let out a small laugh.

"It's hard to be thrust into the spot light Miss Weasley. It can put even the best of us under incredible strain. If you know in your heart that you aren't doing anything wrong, then I think these dreams are just that. Nothing more." She gave her a smile and finished writing the prescription. "Any more blackouts?"

"Yeah." She frowned at the trees. A strong autumn wind was ripping through the browns, reds, and yellows, sending showers of color into the sky. "But not like before. I'm only out for a few minutes, and back on my feet later on that day."

"Were they large triggers?" Jenna's voice seemed far away; as she continued to gloomily stare into the morning.

"Very large."

"Nothing small anymore?"

"No."

"And was your boyfriend there to help you in these times?"

Her head snapped back to Jenna who was looking down at her clipboard of notes, scribbling along as the answers flew. She felt her heart kick up in her chest, thumping madly against her lungs, her fingers reached for the vile in her pocket, but she soon realized she'd left it back at school. The long stretch of silence caused Jenna to look up slowly.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"Don't you know?" She swallowed hard and fingered her wand in her front pocket, suddenly nervous. Either the woman before her was not Jenna at all, the same Jenna who had given Harry instruction on how to take care of her because she thought he was her boyfriend, or she was having a horrible nightmare again. Either way, she wanted to be prepared. Jenna's eyes fell on her fingers, lightly dancing around her wand, ready to pull at any moment.

"Forgive me, but I was under the impression that everyone had gone back to Hogwarts. Had he not?" She said it very evenly and coolly, setting her pen down and still eyeing her wand hand.

"No. He didn't. But anyone that can read English would have known that."

"I don't follow Witch Weekly, Miss Weasley. Nor do I put much stock in the Daily Prophet. He is of age and the majority of the students went back. I apologize if I've startled you, but it was more misinformation on my part. You can move your hand now." She raised an eyebrow at her fist now wrapped around the thick end of her wand. "Not everyone is out to get the both of you."

"Right." She gave a hallow laugh, and moved her hand, but the tension was still far too thick for anything productive to happen.

"I am sorry. All anyone will talk about is Harry Potter this, and Harry Potter that, I've started to tune it out. There are still plenty of witches and wizards that are recovering from the war, several of whom never will, on top of the tremendous workload we deal with on a daily basis. You should consider yourself lucky to come out of this horrible ordeal only slightly scathed. I don't have time to keep tabs on Harry Potter and what he's up to. I had gotten the impression from his stay with you on the fourth floor that he didn't want anyone to either." Jenna finished in a clipped tone and straightened her shoulders, pulling on the no nonsense air that she had liked so much about her during her stay. The tension started to dissolve, and she looked back out onto the clouds gathering on the mountains in the distance.

"He'd like nothing more then that."

"I am sensing a depression building within you Miss Weasley. It would be wise for you to take better care of yourself so I don't have to have an extended stay from you again." Jenna shot off as she wrote down more notes.

"The feeling's mutual." She mumbled and looked up. Jenna ripped off the script and handed it across the space between them.

"Sleeping draft, appetite booster, and a prescription for Draught of Peace. The winter months are coming up, as well as Christmas. Holidays can be especially hard on people after the war." Jenna stopped and she sucked in a short breath, that stabbing feeling filling her stomach again. Fred. Jenna eyed her carefully before she continued. "The Headmistresses has informed me that you are taking on quite a workload, as well as Quidditch captain. Those will both do well to distract you. But when your mind starts to wander, and it will," she punctuated quite harshly, "you'll need this."

"If you say so." She deflated and looked down at her hands instead. Jenna's voice started to blur and warp in her mind, muffled and loud, but not at all like passing out. More like tuning out, she'd heard enough.

"Is that clear?" Jenna asked again, looking at her expectantly.

"Yes." She answered automatically. Jenna frowned at her.

"Maybe you should start today." She flicked her wand and a small blue vile with orange wax on top appeared in her hand.

"No," she stood up and tried to smile. "No. I'll be fine. But I'll keep what you said in mind."

"Please do Miss Weasley." She put a cold hand on her arm, and pinned her to the floor with her eyes. "Everything seems hard when you're seventeen, and you've had a rough run of it lately, but it won't always be like this. You just have to put in the work. If you can do that, anything is possible."

"Thanks." She grabbed the script and Jenna dropped her hand.

"Make an appointment for after the New Year. But if anything happens, anything at all, don't hesitate to contact me." Jenna gave her a tight smile and then with a flick of her wand her file followed her out the door. She grabbed her jacket, and she moved to the front desk.

This time the witch just held it out and she picked a Sunday at random in January, pocketed the card, and made her way to the private fireplace set up for her. McGonagall was sitting at her desk, going over paperwork with a frown as she materialized covered in soot. Wordlessly, McGonagall cleaned her off and set the fire right, still looking down at her paperwork she asked,

"Do you need me to drop off a prescription for you with Madame Pomfrey?"

"Yes." She dropped it onto her desk with a breath of relief. The last thing she wanted to do was highlight the fact that she seemed to be slowly going crazy again by starting the gossip a trip to the infirmary would showcase.

"It should be ready by tomorrow."

"Thank you Headmistresses." She straightened her jacket and moved toward the door.

"Is everything alright Miss Weasley?" She looked over the top of her glasses at her and Ginny forced a smile.

"It will be."

She'd be high as a kite with all these potions working through her. McGonagall gave her a sympathetic look and then looked down at the prescriptions.

"Of course. Let me know if you need anything."

She nodded and left. That's all anyone said to her these days. Between the looks, the smiles, and the empty words of comfort she was disgusted with the whole situation. What she needed was a lighter workload. What she needed was her whole and complete family around. What she needed was for this year to be over so she could get on with her life. She'd thought going to Hogwarts was going to give her closure and peace. All it was doing now was slowly driving her crazy. What she needed was Harry around.

Despite the fighting that seemed to always develop between them, despite the separation that had been forced upon them, despite the churning emotions that threatened to make them both explode…she liked having him around. Harry never cared if she was surly or mean. Harry wasn't frightened by her tears. He made her feel normal, he made her feel sane, but most importantly he made her feel safe. She desperately wanted to feel that way again. She looked up to suddenly find herself in front of the Room of Requirement.

_'I need Harry. I need Harry. I need Harry.' _

She thought it as hard as she could; trying to even conjure up how he smelled and when she opened her eyes all she saw was a blank wall. With a small moan in the back of her throat she slid down the wall and folded herself up onto her knees, letting the tears fall hard and fast.

* * *

~*~


	19. Chapter 19

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 19~

_There must be someplace here,_

_That only you and I could go,_

_So I can show you how I feel._

_Sweetest Goodbye – Maroon 5_

* * *

~*~

Wednesday was when all the potions finally mixed together to create the drug-induced euphoria she'd been expecting. She hadn't told anyone what Jenna had prescribed for her, and she took great pains to make sure no one was around when she went to pick up the weeks worth of potions on Monday. Madame Pomphrey had suggested she start them all a day apart. Today was the day she added the Draught of Peace. Initially she hadn't been planning on using it. But, as she caught herself more often then naught staring out into the dying grounds and hearing all the conversations around her buzzing to white noise she realized she'd probably need it. It would be soon enough when Neville or Hermione would get sick of repeating themselves and get suspicious. She told herself after today she'd just take it when needed. That way it would never be too noticeable, and she could still be moody if she felt like it. She rather liked her moody self; it kept everyone on their toes.

The first mistake was the bright smile and wave to the entire table. She grabbed her arm and forced it down, like it had a mind of its own. Hermione gave her a bewildered smile and moved over slightly so she could squeeze in. The second mistake was when she grabbed a handful of bacon, half a plate of eggs, a fist of toast, and set the pitcher of pumpkin juice in front of herself. Neville's mouth dropped open slightly, he exchanged a look with Hermione, but they both just continued to eat. The third mistake was when she looked across the table at Seamus and with more spunk then she ever thought she had within herself asked,

"So who's this girl in Ravenclaw you're seeing?"

Tea sprayed all over a group of fifth years sitting across from Seamus, they jumped up from the table to clean themselves, the action knocked the table sideways for a moment, the food slid toward Seamus' side of the table causing all the fourth years to yell out in surprise. The other two tables started laughing at the predicament, the Hufflepuff tables were pushing each other to see what was going on, and then someone threw a muffin. She thought it was Pugh, or maybe Thompson, but that single muffin started a raging food fight that spilled over onto Hufflepuff so quickly that for a moment she was stunned into silence.

Then she was hit on the side of her face with cold eggs and without missing a beat grabbed her pitcher of juice and chucked the contents of it across two tables, managing to get both Seamus (who was covered in oatmeal), and most of the fourth years. Shrieks of laughter and surprise broke free into the stunned hall as Gryffindor's and Hufflepuff's starting aiming and conspiring on the best ways to attack the other. It was only when a well placed, oversized, and emerald Slytherin green bowl of fruit shattered on the Hufflepuff table with a glassy spray that McGonagall finally stood up and boomed out,

"ENOUGH!"

Everything fell to the floor with a slop and Ginny took a quick survey of the damage. Enchanted candles had been knocked down, pasty oatmeal was sticking to the walls, and a small stream of juices and teas were running toward the head table.

"I have never, in my entire time here, seen such a blatant disrespect for this school. 50 point from Slytherin for throwing that bowl, which could have killed someone. 75 points from Hufflepuff for jumping into the fray. 100 points from Gryffindor for this unacceptable behavior. Everyone from Gryffindor will be staying into their first period to clean all this up. Breakfast is over."

McGonagall waved her wand and the bell sounded into the nervously quiet hall. Everyone at the Gryffindor table was shattered. 100 points meant Ravenclaw was going to take the lead, not to mention the whole cleaning up of a mess they only had half created. But it was at that moment when the fourth and finally dead giveaway forced its way up through her fleeting control.

"Are you smiling?" Seamus bellowed at her, still covered in oatmeal. He slopped it off with a wide gesture, spraying Dean next to him. "You taking the mickey outta me?"

"Seamus, calm down." Hermione started, and then looked over, concerned at the smile that just wouldn't leave her face. Ginny just picked a few bits of bacon from her hair.

"You think we're having a gas here?" He started up again, furious. His accent was coming through thick and strong. "You made a holy show of this! 100 bloody points isn't something to have a laugh over, it's brutal! Some kind of fairly lively shenanigans you did!"

Seamus was now a kind of blue color he had worked himself into such a tizzy, the other houses streaming out of the mess were looking over their shoulders at his outburst. Ginny couldn't, despite her best efforts, get the smile off her face.

"You're covered in oatmeal." She managed and laughed, her body refusing to respond to the warning sign that was going off in the back of her mind. Seamus lunged across the table at her, sliding with the mess, Dean grabbed his calves before he could clear the distance and Seamus dissolved into swearing so colorful that she nodded her head impressed.

"Are you high?" He screamed at her.

"Of course I am!" She laughed back and grabbed a dry piece of toast and shoved it into her mouth. Hermione grabbed her out of the reach of Seamus' flailing hands and Neville jumped on top of Seamus as he tried to shimmy across the slick and filthy table.

"Calm down you bugger!" Neville was swearing as he slipped and slid along with a purple faced Seamus. Dean still had his legs but was giving her a very concerned look. All the Gryffindor tables were now watching, snapping their heads back and forth between the exchanges going on with the five of them. Everything started to feel light and funny, almost like she was beginning to lift off the ground, the laughing continuing to echo off the walls, sending Seamus almost into a rage coma.

"Miss Weasley," McGonagall's voice cut through it all and she grabbed her arm roughly. They went slipping through the hall; Hermione looked wounded and empty handed, and the Headmistress said over her shoulder, "It won't clean itself."

"Where's she going?" A few younger years called out indignantly but McGonagall ignored them, thrust her through the door, and continued toward the infirmary. She was still giggling to herself, without being able to stop, when she was finally released in front of Madame Pomfrey.

"Poppy, this one was a little too strong. She started a food fight with her incessant laughing."

"Oh dear. Oh dear. I think it is a combination of the sleeping draft with the peace draft, it can create an almost hysterical euphoria. Do you feel strange dear?" Madame Pomfrey grabbed her shoulders and tried to straighten her out, but the giggles kept making everything bounce. She tried to talk but just dissolved into laughing again.

"The girl is obviously not herself. How long until this wears off?"

"Hours. Maybe by lunch."

Quickly and efficiently Madame Pomfrey banished all the food that was covering her, and with another flick of her wand she was instantly in hospital clothes.

"But I look so dull in these!" She laughed, and gave her a pained look. "Please help me. Jenna didn't tell me this would happen. I did as you asked." She shook with laughter, tears starting to form in her eyes. The two women forced her into a bed, as tears fell down with her laughter.

"Don't worry; it's nothing we can't fix. Just try to calm down, dear." Madame Pomfrey tried to tell her in a soothing voice, but it didn't help. As the laughter started to hurt her stomach and rattle her teeth, her despair at not being able to stop it filled her eyes with cloudy tears making everything blurry.

"I think we should knock her out until it wears off. No point in torturing the girl." McGonagall lowly said, and a bottle appeared by her bedside. Without prompting, and knowing full and well what it was about to do, she gulped it down and closed her eyes. She could still feel herself laughing as the blackness took over.

* * *

~*~

Papers were rustling, and a quill was quickly scratching as the world came back into focus. She opened a single eye and saw a mass of bushy brown hair. The infirmary was dim, the windows ablaze with red and orange tones that spilled across the empty beds. Hermione had her feet propped up on her bed, surrounded by stacks of books, and frowning at the parchment in front of her.

"I highly doubt it's that hard." She croaked. Hermione's head shot up and she narrowed her eyes.

"Don't ever scare me like that again."

"Wasn't my fault." She shrugged a single shoulder and opened her other eye. It appeared that the double dose of her regular sleeping potion mixed with the heavy cocktail she'd been given had sent her into a coma. She hadn't felt this disoriented since her first hospital stay.

"First you are acting so strangely. Then Seamus tries to murder you. Next you are whisked away without explanation. Now I come to find you passed out for an entire day here. If I didn't know any better I'd say you were up to something."

"Nope. Just depressed." She sighed.

"Ginny," Hermione closed her book. "Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped you. I'm supposed to watch over you."

"I'm not a baby." She snapped, and felt instantly relieved. It appeared that she was clear of any Draught of Peace now.

"I know," Hermione scolded and added in a low tone, "but Harry asked." She started running her fingers over something on her neck. It flashed brilliantly in the low light for a moment.

"Do you like your present?"

"Oh," Hermione blushed and then pulled her hand away to show it off. "It's the nicest present I've ever received. I didn't think Ron was that sentimental."

"Don't kid yourself. He still has his baby blanket somewhere in his room, I'm sure of it. He's very sentimental. It looks better on you then in the box." She sat up and repositioned her pillows. Her head was still swimming with the promise of more sleep if she needed it. Despite being knocked out for hours upon end she still felt tired.

"Ginny, why didn't you tell me you were going to be on so many medications? Now Harry is worried sick, I'm getting owls from Ron and George almost hourly. You're Mum and Dad are about to come up here. Harry keeps popping into fireplaces around Ron to get an update." She pulled at her hair slightly. "Things were so much easier when we were all in one spot." She finished more to herself then anything.

"Do I have to tell you lot everything about my life? I would have told Harry but he seems to only want to talk to you." She huffed.

"Ron. He only talks to Ron because he can't be flooing the fireplaces at Hogwarts!" Hermione quickly admonished. "What's wrong? What happened in four days to get to this?" She took a stack of letters out of her pocket and tossed them onto the bed.

'_Mione,_

_You have to tell me what's going on. If I see Harry's face one more time I might kick the fire out and be rid of him for good. George is going to apparate to the gates if you can't tell me anything. I highly doubt Ginny wants her entire family descending upon Hogwarts over nothing. It is nothing right?_

_Please!_

_Ron_

The next one was a scrap of parchment and frantic writing that she recognized:

_Hermione,_

_Jenna wouldn't have sent me a letter if it was nothing. What the hell is going on?_

_Harry_

Underneath that note were several more anxious letters from Ron and George. A longer one caught her eye and she pulled it out.

_Hi Love,_

_First things first, I miss you. Just the other day I was in the shower and remembered…._

Ginny turned bright red and looked up at Hermione with wide eyes. She wordlessly pointed to the end of it.

_Harry popped in on Sunday, looking worse for wear. He was pretty beat up, but seemed to be in good spirits at first. I say at first because you know how he quickly dissolves into those moods of his. After pretending to care he slammed some official looking letter down onto the table and demanded to know what was happening with Ginny. _

_I'd heard from Mum that morning that Jenna had sent both her and Harry a letter after her check up and it said that it seemed that she was going to be alright. She might possibly need some potions to get her weight up and the such, Mum didn't seem so concerned. It said that they should try to make themselves available to help if they could. _

_Well of course Harry can't! So it only pissed him off, and then he started pacing around the place mucking mud everywhere, muttering to himself, and demanding answers. Like I know? What the hell is going on with Ginny? He told me he won't stop bugging me until I got an answer. I told him to write to her himself and he thought that was a bad idea. Apparently he thinks she'll fly off the handle if we start meddling in her business. But you're there with her every day. Surely you've seen something change, right? _

_Help me. I do love my sister. I'd hate to have to strangle her boyfriend. _

_Love always,_

_Ron_

"Ginny." Hermione implored.

"It's nothing I did. The potions all mixed together bad. It's not my fault Seamus decided to spray the table with tea." She sank back, deeply, into her pillows. "I don't think I'll be taking the Draught of Peace for a long time. Guess you'll just have to deal with my moods."

"Nothing I haven't had to do before." Hermione sighed, and then quickly amended. "Not you, of course."

"It's alright." She exhaled loudly and then paused as a beautiful brown, black, and white owl flew through one of the open windows of the infirmary and landed on her bed with a shake of her feathers. She held out her leg to show off a tightly rolled scroll strapped to her leg with a piece of string.

"Harry." Hermione supplied quietly. "He bought a bird yesterday because of his increasing anxiety."

With shaking hands she detached the letter and unraveled it, it appeared he was able to actually find paper this time. Albeit very small paper, but still bigger then his usual scraps.

_Ginny,_

_How are you? How is school going? Is the team giving you problems yet? How are the new teachers? I haven't been able to speak to you for some time. _

There was a large splotch of ink at the end of the last sentence. Almost as if he had kept his quill there, debating on how to word his next sentence as the ink pooled on the page.

_Are you alright? I received a letter from Jenna at St. Mungo's. She said you weren't doing so well. I have no idea how that bloody bird found me, so it makes me think something is really wrong._

It was slanted and cramped, like it had come out as a rush on the page. Then another large ink splat showed his pause.

_I can leave if you want me to. I'm sure I'd be able to take some time off if you needed me to be there. There's always something to be done, and we're starting to make some headway, but I doubt I'll be missed for a couple days. We're only going to be here until the end of the week, which should be your Hogsmeade weekend. I can stay at the Burrow with you if that is what's going to happen. Is that what you need?_

She sighed against the letter, fluttering the paper in her hands. There were several tiny dots of ink that were indented into the paper. He had been tapping the page.

_Let me know. I miss you._

_Harry_

She looked at the letter for a moment, and then reached over and grabbed some parchment and the still inked quill from Hermione's stack of homework. She grabbed the potion's book at the foot of the bed and scratched off quickly:

_Harry,_

_Stay. I'm fine. You're needed there more then here. I'm staying at school. This will all work out. Don't worry. I'll see you Saturday for dinner._

_Love,_

_Ginny_

"That's not what he wanted to hear." Hermione's voice sounded like a whisper across the empty hospital wing.

"No. It's what he needed to hear." She answered and tied the message to the bird with the same string. She leaned back into her pillows, closed her eyes, and tried to empty her mind of the conflicting emotions that were bubbling within her. It only took Hermione a few moments of silent fretting to give up and start back scratching on her homework. She quickly fell asleep.

* * *

~*~

She had not had a dream about the ocean and her gray dress since Monday, she woke up hungry and actually ate, her brain was starting to function, the white noise buzzing of the chatter around her was turning back into conversations, and she was miserable. If anything, the last five days had thrown into sharp focus just how much she missed Harry, and just how desperate their relationship had become. She couldn't leave Hogwarts without jeopardizing what little she had going for her. Harry couldn't leave wherever the hell he was without turning his back on all he had worked for. A dinner in Hogsmeade on Saturday was only going to be flashing bulbs and chatting friends around them. She desperately wanted time alone; it just wasn't going to happen.

That feeling of desperation was starting to make her anxious, bold, daring, and stupid. She was getting the urge to just leave campus, tromp through the Forbidden Forrest until she was past the wards, run into Hogsmeade and Floo anywhere, but she knew better. It was never going to be that simple. Even if she did manage to get away it wouldn't solve anything, and she'd just add another layer of problems for her and Harry. She was starting to feel as if their relationship was beginning to strain to the point of combustion.

This point was usually when she would break up with her boyfriend. It'd be easy to just brush all that had happened off and break up if it had been anyone else. Absolutely anyone else at all, but it was Harry. Harry who she had always wanted. Harry who she had bided her time for. Harry who had confessed his love and devotion to her. Harry who had bent over backward all summer long to make her happy. Harry. Despite what she might have thought, they were irrevocably tangled together now. He knew too much about her, she knew too much about him, and her body burned with memory at what he was quite capable of when they were left alone. This relationship was what she had been waiting for, and she wasn't going to just give up because it was starting to get messy.

A dinner in Hogsmeade wasn't going to fix or solve anything. A few hours was only going to make them smolder and fester more. On top of it all he'd want to talk about what was wrong with her the entire time, and it would just feel like time wasted. She looked down into her tea again and frowned. This was all far too frustrating.

Hermione was already up and out of the dorm that morning; she'd had to walk down to breakfast alone, and sat alone until she felt the thump next to her and grabbed her mug to cancel out any kind of questions.

"I had no idea you were all cracked up. Sorry for losing my temper." Seamus lowly said to her.

"It's fine." She mumbled to her tea.

"No, it's not. I should have known. You were acting different. I just get in these tempers and can't control them." He started running the tines on his fork across his empty plate.

"It's okay, Seamus." She set her tea down.

"Please don't kick me off the team." He feverishly whispered to her.

"You're still on the team." She consoled without looking at him, feeling him relax next to her but still on edge.

"I'm so sorry, Ginny." He implored.

"Enough." She quietly ordered and locked eyes with him. He nodded and then started to help himself to some breakfast. Hermione, Dean and Neville were still no where to be found. She picked apart the rest of her scone until McGonagall stood up from the head table and all the clanking and chatter fell silent.

"I have a few announcements to make this morning." She paused and narrowed her eyes at the Great Hall door opening to reveal the missing three. They quickly scuttled to their spot and she cleared her throat and continued. "The first Hogsmeade weekend is this Saturday. If you have written permission to go please line up at the front of the school by 10AM. Secondly, we have decided to have a Yule Ball this year, minus the Tri-Wizard tournament. It will be a celebration of the rebuilding of the school, and the triumphant defeat of the darkest wizard of our age here within these very walls. As usual it shall be held the week before the holiday break. Fourth years and higher are allowed to attend. Anyone from a younger class must be asked by an upper classmate. Seventh and eighth year students are allowed to invite guests from off campus, but this must be cleared at least a month before hand. Please submit your requests to me by the beginning of November. There will be more information posted in the common rooms. Have a wonderful day." She finished and the Great Hall exploded with noise. Everyone was buzzing with excitement but she focused her eyes on the three of them and mildly asked,

"Where were you three?"

"Around." Dean quickly replied and turned to Parvati Patil seated next to him. She trained her eyes on Hermione next but she just shrugged and dug into breakfast. It was Neville that she saved for last and he was avoiding her eyes.

"You know its groups of three that tend to get into the most trouble at this school. Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Malfoy, Crabb, and Goyle. And now we have Neville, Hermione, and Dean. Sure you were just 'around'?" She waved her fork in a fast little circle in the air.

"It was nothing, Ginny. Just keep eating." Neville lied to his eggs and she felt her mood darken. Just as she was about to get up and leave them all again to brood in her own unnecessary solitude the morning owls descended upon the tables. She hadn't looked up at the enchanted ceiling this morning, so as the birds swooped down she was pelted with unexpected rainwater. Hermione had the paper smack down, and then Pig hooted happily as he dropped off another letter from Ron. Not expecting anything she grabbed the paper and rolled her eyes at Hermione's sharp look. Hermione always liked to be the first to give news.

"Anything new?" Seamus looked over her shoulder. She quickly scanned the paper.

"Same old. Death Eater's in prison, Death Eater's on trial, Auror shortage, and oh no." Her eyes couldn't seem to focus on the words fast enough to comprehend them, running over everything in fast succession. But the picture told her loud and clear that someone was about to get a howler, no matter what the cost it would take to find him.

"Ginny?" Hermione pulled the paper down from around her face and frowned at her expression.

"What was he thinking?"

Seamus had stood up from the table and started reading over her shoulder. He laughed out loud catching everyone's attention and snatched the paper out of her hands to start reading aloud,

"Harry Potter," he paused as the table erupted in cheers. "Is at it again. First single handedly saving a family from Dementor's, then fighting off dragons and nasty beasts set loose by defunct Death Eater's. Today we are hearing that he, with a small contingent of Aurors, have hunted and successfully killed a Chimera that was wreaking a deadly havoc across Northern Ireland, including the deaths of two Muggles."

"That a boy!" Someone yelled out bracingly. Several people were murmuring while a few first years clapped with excitement. Ginny hung her head.

"This Chimera, thought to be released by Lucius Malfoy before his arrest, has been slowly and stealthily picking off wizards that try to approach, and a young Muggle couple that mistook it for a bear." Seamus shook his head, as if it was so ridiculous it was funny. Several people started to laugh, but she knew the next part that was coming. She'd seen it in his eyes on the moving picture.

"What else?" Someone yelled out.

"While Potter continues to be more then modest in his comments to the press, it was a fellow Auror, who wished to remain nameless, that was able to tell us that it was The Boy Who Lived himself that stepped into the danger and subdued the monster. He sustained a minor injury during the battle, and it was a senior officer that finished off the menace of a beast. When asked how he felt about the whole ordeal, all The Chosen One would offer was…"

"No comment." Ginny whispered to herself along with Seamus. The table erupted in cheers again, but all she could see was the picture flashing over and over again in her brain. Harry, in pain and defeated. No one would be able to tell just by looking at his lips quickly and mutely saying 'no comment' as he held onto his arm and stalked out of the screen that if he'd had a choice in the matter he wouldn't have killed the Chimera. That and he was in an intense amount of pain, she could see it in his eyes.

"Quite the hero you have there, Ginny." Seamus gave her a large pat on the back and handed the paper over. Giggles and whispers started immediately after his comment, and Neville knocked over his juice turning a bright red color. Hermione shook out her letter in a bossy sort of way, and reaching across the table held it out for her. It was brief.

'_Mione,_

_A Chimera? A Chimera? He either has balls of steel or he's gone mad. Still wicked awesome though. Can't wait to talk to him about it. Maybe there's still time for me to sack up and join him. What do you think?_

_Ron_

"I think," she stabbed the remains of her scone with her fork. "That my brother needs to have some sense slapped into him. Perhaps I can extend the favor on Saturday?" She asked Hermione.

"It'd be appreciated. Maybe you should inform your boyfriend that his reckless shows of stupidity aren't helping. It'd be nice for _one_ of them to survive to their next birthday." Hermione replied heatedly.

"If he listened, I would." She pushed her plate aside and Seamus threw an arm over her shoulder. She rolled her eyes and glared at him from the side.

"I'd thought you'd be falling all over yourself to congratulate him. Any other girl in this school would shave her head if he asked her too."

She gave Seamus a shove, but he kept her tight against him, laughing. It was Neville that finally looked up from his damp breakfast and seemed to force out,

"Maybe that's why he likes her so much. She isn't like any other girl in this school."

"True, mate. True enough." Seamus gave a chuckle trying to lighten up the mood, but Neville was glaring at his arm like it was a snake. She pushed Seamus away this time and stood up, grabbing her bag and flipping her hair out of her way.

"I think that I've never liked being talked about in the third person. Why should I start today?" She stormed off out of the Great Hall.

* * *

~*~

They were just about to enter their DADA class when Hermione grabbed the back of her robes and yanked her to the side.

"Promise me you'll control yourself today in class." Hermione quickly whispered.

"Why?"

"You're just like your brother. Don't you ever read ahead in your books?" She shifted her enormous bag to the other shoulder.

"No. Why?"

"Please, Ginny!" Hermione begged and pushed them through the doors. They sat down at their regular table and waited for Ransach to settle down. She turned to the class, a bright smile across her face, and announced,

"Please turn to page 315."

Ginny yanked her book out and Hermione gave her a dark, warning, look. She sighed and flipped to the spot to see Harry's face staring right back up at her.

"Seriously?" She shouted at her book. Hermione pinched her. But her reaction caused the rest of the class to start murmuring and laughing. Ginny let her head hit the book on her desk. Now she knew why Hermione wanted her to stay silent, this was going to be a long class. She glanced over at Hermione's open book and saw several things scratched out and notes marked in the corners. Apparently it was also incorrect. She clenched her teeth together; she was getting detention for sure today.

"Today we will be covering one of the greatest wizards of our age, Harry Potter." Ransach beamed at the class, apparently excited to be able to finally talk about her idol worship. "Now, by a show of hands, how many of you were here at Hogwarts while Harry was in school?"

"Stupid cow." Ginny muttered under her breath. Every hand in the small class shot up.

"Please." Hermione begged in a whisper.

"Now how many students were privileged to know Harry on a more personal level?" Her beady eyes searched across the crowd.

"Define personal." Ginny muttered under her breath and propped her hand up on her desk. Hermione bit her lip. Only a few hands were up this time, her, Luna, Hermione, Neville, Seamus, and Dean.

"Excellent! It will be a richer experience when students can give personal anecdotes while we learn about him." She moved back to her desk grabbing her book.

"What? Like the fact that he talks in his sleep?" Ginny muttered to Hermione, who let out a soft snort of laughter, trying to hide it. Ransach gave Ginny a warning look. It was going to be one of those days.

"Neville, why don't you begin?" Ransach held up her book to indicate he should read. There was a manic gleam in her eyes. Neville cleared his throat,

"On the night of Halloween, in the year 1981…"

"Do we really have to listen to this?" Ginny whispered. Hermione shot her a frown and looked back down at her own version. She scratched another part off and wrote something in the margin.

"…to his loving Muggle relatives." Neville dropped off. Ginny shot her hand in the air before Hermione could stop her.

"Miss Weasley?" Ransach looked surprised, but wary.

"They weren't loving."

"Excuse me?" She set the book down.

"You wanted personal anecdotes. His Aunt and Uncle were horrible people. He stayed with my family most of the time." The whole class turned toward her, and she set her jaw, ready for the onslaught.

"Anything else you'd like to add?" Ransach raised an eyebrow. Ginny couldn't help it. She was like Snape sometimes being so calculated and demeaning, she had to fight back. She pulled Hermione's book across their table and propped it up with a loud bang.

"Let's see," she scrolled down the page. Ransach had her hands on her hips now, the book lost somewhere on her desk. She could feel all her fellow Gryffindor's smiling and nodding, trying to silently support her. "Sirius Black's name has been cleared; he had no participation in the death of his parents. That was the work of Peter Pettigrew, who was the main servant to Lord Voldemort. He didn't open the Chamber of Secrets, I did. He didn't crash the car into the Whomping Willow, my brother did. He didn't form Dumbledore's Army, Hermione did. Do you want me to continue?" She looked up at Ransach for a moment. She was slowly turning red.

"Ginny," Hermione warned.

"Cedric Diggory was murdered he was not a causality, wow…this is really wrong, he in no way stunned several guards to get into the Department of Mysteries. Let's see here," she continued to scroll down Hermione's notes, looking for just the glaring errors, not all the tiny ones. "Honestly, did Rita Skeeter write this?" The class erupted into laughter. Hermione snatched her book back and shook her head.

"Anything else?" Ransach was bright red, fists clenched against her waist, her foot tapping out a fast rhythm on the floor.

"Yes, unlike what this book says he didn't just fall into any of this, like it was some hobby. He was constantly tested by it, and chosen." She leaned back in her chair, waiting for it. It was worth it, she wouldn't have lies being spread around.

"I'm glad we have such an expert in our midst." Ransach's voice came out calm and clipped.

"She should be." Seamus said to Dean, they both laughed. She threw an ink bottle at his head. Ransach was in such a blazing temper that she hadn't even noticed.

"Perhaps you should rewrite the entire chapter, and bring it to the next class. We'll need a copy for every student." Ransach gave her a smile, and Ginny felt herself shrink, something very bad was coming.

"Of course, Professor." She answered.

"But in the mean time I'd like you to come up front and read the rest of the chapter for us. That way we'll know what is different next time." Ransach moved around the desk to sit in her chair, gesturing largely for Ginny to take the floor. With a large breath she grabbed her book and shuffled toward the front.

This was going to be brutal, she wasn't very well versed in public speaking; passionate tirades, hilarious imitations, even uplifting rallies for her team were about as far as it went for her. But it would be worth it, even if she could just let the tone of her voice illustrate how horribly wrong these paragraphs were she could make it through. She drug her book up with her and held it in her arms. With her back to Ransach she looked out at the small group of 7th and 8th years, she knew every face. They all smiled at her, nodded for her to continue, and generally encouraged and egged her on. Only Hermione waggled a scolding finger to warn her to be good.

"On the night of Halloween, in the year 1981…"

* * *

~*~

Hermione, being quite ingenious, had suggested that she charm thirteen quills to follow her movement, and thus only have to write the essay once. She was done within an hour with Hermione's notes, and Neville's suggestions. She'd even had time to wrap each scroll with a piece of red ribbon, as an extra jab at Ransach.

"Can't you just listen to me once?" Hermione leaned back on the couch and popped a chocolate frog into her mouth.

"I tried. Well, I thought about trying." Ginny laughed. Neville threw some jellybeans at her, laughing as well. "But she just gets under my skin. You saw the look on her face, she was ravenous. I bet _she_ wrote that whole chapter."

"She is a little bit too interested in Harry. Makes you wonder." Dean leaned over the couch and stole a frog from Hermione.

"Maybe we should make her flash her forearms, eh?" Seamus joined in, flopping on the couch next to Hermione.

"I wouldn't go that far Seamus. But she is a bit off." Hermione finished distractedly. Her eyes narrowed, "Thompson! Get over here. I saw that box of fireworks!" She jumped up off the couch and went storming after him.

"Miss Weasley?"

They all looked up at a trembling first year; she held out a scroll in front of her, with a Hogwarts seal on it.

"Damn." Ginny swore and took the scroll out of her hands, trying to give her a smile. "McGonagall."

"Ransach was going to find a way." Dean stuck out his hand for some jellybeans from Neville. Ginny unrolled the scroll,

_Miss Weasley,_

_ I need to see you in my office immediately._

_ Regards,_

_ Head Mistress Minerva McGonagall_

Seamus leaned down from the couch to look over Ginny's shoulder.

"You're in trouble now!"

"Hardly." She brushed it off and stood, jellybeans, scraps of ribbon, and chocolate frog wrappers falling to the floor. "I'll be back."

She passed Hermione, still giving a lecture to Thompson, and pointed to the scroll. She nodded at her, never breaking her tirade. Ginny laughed as she stepped out of the portrait hole. She took the back passageways and empty hallways to get to the Head Mistress' office. Once she was up the marble staircase she knocked on the door and heard the faint,

"Please, come in."

"You wanted to see me?"

McGonagall was writing something at the big desk. The portraits of past Head Master's snoozing and watching her. She swore Dumbledore winked. She fumbled around in her pockets looking for the shell vile and with an internal sigh wrapped her fingers around the smooth glass, holding it tight in the palm of her hand. McGonagall finally looked up,

"Miss Weasley, I've been informed that you gave Professor Ransach some cheek yesterday."

"Yes ma'am."

"Any reason in particular that you felt the need to be so insubordinate?" The Head Mistress folded her hands over the paper she had been working on.

"She was trying to pass off lies as coursework." Ginny tried to keep her voice even.

"What in particular?" She ran a tired hand across her forehead.

"The section about Harry." Ginny shifted on her feet.

"I feel that I don't need to remind you of the example you need to set, and the level of decorum that I expect from this graduating class." McGonagall looked over her glasses at her.

"With all due respect, Head Mistress, I would hope that you remember that not every Defense teacher deserved respect and blind cooperation." Ginny took a shaky breath after it came out. She was walking a thin line, but she would not back down, not after the apparent curse on the Defense teacher position had been lifted. It wasn't fair to get another crackpot to take the place.

"Indeed, Miss Weasley." She paused. "If I hear of this again, I'm afraid some disciplinary action is in order."

"Of course." She bowed her head, not wanting to let McGonagall see the rush of relief that would cross her face. She was paranoid she'd yank her Captain title away at the first slip up.

"I will miss having a Weasley on our grounds after graduation. But, let's hope you take after Bill, and not George." McGonagall smiled at her.

"I'll try, ma'am."

"Oh, and you have a visitor." She gestured to one of the dark corners amidst the towering bookcases and out popped Harry, grinning ear to ear. Her breath caught in her chest and she let out a kind of startled sound in the back of her throat. It couldn't be real, it couldn't be him. Not on Friday night. Her body caught up with her brain and she shook herself as if suddenly waking.

"Harry!" She screamed and charged at him, knocking him into a bookcase, a shower of books started flapping their covers and flying around them. She held onto him long after he'd finished laughing.

"Dinner?" He whispered into her hair. She nodded against his chest.

"Did you bring someone else?" She looked into the shadows for her brother.

"Just me." He kept a tight arm around her waist and moved them toward the large desk. "Thank you, again, Head Mistress."

"It's nothing," she smiled warmly at them and looked back down at her desk, a signal for them to leave. "We do have a curfew Miss Weasley." She intoned as the door swung shut behind them. With a soft rustle of fabric he'd swung his invisibility cloak around them and they went pounding down the stairs. Hitting the hallway he seized her around the waist and they paused in the middle of the hallway.

"So skinny." His breath hit her face and then he covered her retort with his lips. She struggled for a moment, but as it began to last longer and longer the reason she was mad seemed to float away. When he pulled away she said in a low whisper,

"How's the arm?"

"Are you feeling better?" His hands roamed under her cloak against her button up shirt.

"Fancy killing a Lethifold next?" She felt her body heat up in response to his hands.

"I didn't kill that Chimera." His hands stalled. She pressed herself against him and murmured in his ear,

"I know that."

"You're not going to talk about it, are you?" He pulled at the ends of her now very long hair, and then started to wrap his fingers up in it.

"We don't have that long and I'm not going to waste my breath talking about things that no longer matter." She pulled back a little to look him squarely in the face. Large purple bags under his eyes, a superficial scratch on his collarbone, and hair so messy she wouldn't be surprised if a bird flew out of it.

"Good point." He smiled and leaned in again.

* * *

~*~

"So who is this Ransach woman?"

Harry's voice seemed loud in the empty grounds. They were laughing and stumbling along, she walking backwards because he was holding her to the front of him. She tripped again and laughed,

"Oh, she's horrible! A mix between Umbridge and Snape. Well, the bad parts of Snape."

"Ah, I see." He leaned down and kissed her again. "Then you were entirely in order. McGonagall is just trying to keep the peace."

"Honestly," she giggled, slipping along in the dirt. "I'm just doing what I was sorted to do, pride and bravery and what is right. Hanging around with you lot rubbed off on me a bit."

"In a good way." He smiled.

"In a very good way." She smoldered and reached up to kiss him, their feet entangling causing him to stop for a moment. His lips crashed up against hers, sucking the air from her chest, and melting her all at the same time. A pulsing heat filled her body. He pulled back for a second, grinning, and then with a pop they were in Hogsmeade. Her stomach lurched,

"Why do you spring that on me?" She fell up against him. "Every time, ugh!"

"It's faster this way." He grabbed her hand and pulled her into The Three Broomsticks. Luckily it was a very slow night. With a little wave to Madame Rosmerta Harry steered her toward a dark back corner. Her stomach burned with excitement and she fell into the seat. She leaned up against the rounded edge of the horseshoe shaped booth and threw her legs up onto the cushion. Harry slid in next to her and pulled her legs onto his lap, she crossed them.

"So, really, what seems to be the problem in your Defense class?" He ran his hand down her calf and she mentally slapped herself. The last thing she wanted to do tonight was turn into a mindless, stuttering fool, she didn't know when she'd see him again.

"If you must know, Mum," she paused and stuck out her tongue at his grin. "The same as before, she thinks she's better then us, she doesn't really know anything, she could be evil, and we don't get on at all."

"Sounds about right." He nodded. Madame Rosmerta dropped off a few bottles of butterbeer and gave them both a sly smile.

"And she's obsessed with you." She took a slug of butterbeer as his face scrunched up with confusion. "You heard me right."

"Obsessed how, exactly?"

"Well, we've been covering your life," she paused as he choked on some butterbeer. "And whenever she can find an opportunity to bring up the DA, or you, or the battle, she takes it. I swear, if I have to go over the Department of Mysteries one more time I might slap her." She leaned forward to take off her cloak, and then loosen her tie. Harry took another long drink and she appraised him, in all dark clothes again, making his hair look almost blue it was so black.

"It's a good thing I didn't come back. Could you imagine?" He squeezed her leg and she laughed.

"Oh, I could only dream. After she was done hyperventilating I think Madame Pomfrey would have to cart her off to St. Mungo's. I'm sure Lockheart would love a roommate!" She swung her legs off his lap and moved up right next to him. "Enough of that. How is it going?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Fine." He looked away, out toward the empty pub.

"Come on!" She whispered and pinched his side. He smiled.

"It's hard." He looked down at the table. "It's really hard."

"Merlin forbid the magnificent Harry Potter not be good at everything he touches." She teased. He shook his head, still refusing to look at her. She felt the playful mood around them start to fizzle.

"I'm not good at a lot of thing." He frowned at the table.

"Name three."

He looked up at her, the fire behind his eyes causing a hot pant to exhale from her chest right as Madame Rosmerta set the food down. She swallowed hard, a charged field of electricity still pulsing between them.

"Charms." He said as he tore his eyes away and grabbed their food to pull it closer.

"Oh please." She rolled her eyes.

"Shielding charms in particular." He stabbed some carrots.

"And," she prodded.

"Non-verbal's." He frowned at his potatoes.

"Are you kidding me?" Her fork clanked against her plate. "You'd been torturing me with them all summer."

"Potions." He ignored her comment.

"Who could blame you with Snape as your professor." She sassed to her steak, knowing he wasn't going to look up.

"No, that's just it. I should be really good _because_ Snape was my professor." He leaned away from his food. "Should I continue?"

"No." She pushed her food away as well and turned back against the corner cushion, so she could get a good look at him. "Harry, these things are going to take time. It's not something you learn overnight. It's not something you probably even covered in school. You can't be good at everything right off bat."

"It's just…" he blew out a long breath. "Really embarrassing."

"Oh," she frowned.

"No one's making it feel embarrassing, but it's embarrassing to me."

"Aren't you the youngest Auror they've ever had? You can't beat yourself up about this."

"I just thought…" He stopped and she cut over him.

"It'd be easy? This is the hardest profession anyone can choose. And you're trying to do it when you're 18! Harry," she waited until his eyes locked with hers. "Stop trying so hard."

"What?" His face dropped with shock.

"Of all the million things you are good at," he rolled his eyes and she kicked his leg with her boot. "All the million things you can do come naturally to you. Stop trying to force it. Just be yourself, not who they think you are."

"Yeah, yeah." He grumbled to his food but he was smiling. Finally he looked back up and she noticed his eyes focus on her chest. He looked at her chest for a long moment before she swallowed and quietly said,

"Um…did you want to take this somewhere more private?"

"What?" He broke his gaze and then turned bright red. "Sorry. It's just," he leaned forward and his warm fingers pulled the thin red string that was hiding just underneath her loose tie and shirt. He tugged a bit and the Gnarggle necklace popped right out.

"It's from Luna." She instantly took it off and handed it over to him. The small opal looking stone glittered under the low light of the pub. "It's supposed to protect me from…"

"Gnarggles." He finished and smiled at her. "I miss Luna."

"Take it." She instantly said. "I'm sure she has another one laying around I could get. It would make her year. She asks about you all the time."

"Is she doing alright?" He held the stone up again to get a better look at it.

"As far as I know, yes. I see her every single day, she seems to be alright. Very into conservation at the moment."

"What conservation?" He pocketed the necklace into his jacket.

"Magical animals. She keeps talking about it to anyone that will listen, or at least pretend to listen. I told her I agreed with her." She poked at her food.

"To shut her up?" Harry laughed.

"No, I do. I think some of the laws the Ministry is trying to enact are unfairly balanced toward Wizards. But what am I going to do about it?" She forked a lump of potatoes into her mouth.

"You're friends with Hermione and you are asking me that question?" He took another sip of butterbeer. "I'm sure she's still going on about SPEW. You need to start your own coalition or something."

"Like I have the time? I ditched my Potions study group and my Charms study group tonight. McGonagall is refusing to budge on letting me give up some of my electives. Apparently wanting to be a professional Quidditch player isn't worthy enough of her taste. She wants me to keep them as a 'fallback plan'. It's exhausting." She grumbled and pushed her food away, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach about all the homework she'd have to do tomorrow.

"You'll be fine, Ginny. It can't be that bad." He leaned back in the booth, also apparently done after picking through dinner.

"You never took this many classes." She mumbled to herself, but she knew he heard her because a smile cracked across his face. Madame Rosmerta appeared before them and dropped off two shot glasses of flaming fire whiskey.

"You have some admirers." She smiled at them and nodded her head toward the bar. Two figures lifted drinks in response and turned back to their conversation. Harry folded his hands and she sighed and picked up the shot, knocking the other back to the bar maid.

"Would you?" Ginny lifted the shot.

"On the clock again?" Madame Rosmerta directed at Harry, he shook his head. "You could use a little loosening up." Harry folded his arms, and Madame Rosmerta let out a small laugh.

"Cheers!" Ginny clinked their shots, blew hers out, and tossed it back. With another smile the shots were banished and Rosmerta sauntered back to her bar. "Yikes! Forgot how strong those were." She choked, reaching for her water.

"Thanks, Ginny." Harry lowly murmured.

"Don't mention it. Lightweight." She teased. Her shoulders started to burn, the alcohol sloshed around with her food and she settled back against the booth. "We might need to take this somewhere else if you are going to continue to get Madame Rosmerta and I intoxicated."

"I'm just waiting for Ron." He slyly grinned at her.

"Am I supposed to know that that means?" She threw her legs back up onto his lap and his hands immediately started running over them.

"I ran into George on my way up to Hogwarts. He looked like he was going to rip my arms off and beat me with them. But when I told him I was just taking you to dinner he nodded and said, 'I'll take care of Ron'. Which usually means drinking." He pushed back his sleeve and looked at a watch she never knew he owned.

"And you think he's coming here?" She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, but they both quickly rose in surprise as his hand ran over her knees.

"He's had a thing for Rosmerta for as long as I've known him. She likes to dote on him, and it takes his mind off of Hermione. His shift was over about five minutes ago. If George told him he was going to pay they should come walking in…right…" he looked at his watch again. "Now."

The door to the pub swung open and she slapped her hands over her face so not to give them away in the dark corner. Ron and George came sauntering in and settled up against the bar.

"My two favorite Weasley's." Madame Rosmerta called out into the mostly empty bar.

"We've had a long day, beautiful. How about a round for the house." George called out far too loudly.

"As you wish, Mr. Weasley." She cooed to him and two flaming shots appeared on their table.

"Love, call me George. Ronnikins why so glum? You look like your best friend and girl have deserted you."

"Very funny George." Ron grumbled at him, and then Ginny leaned around the corner of her booth to get a look at them. Ron slugged back his free shot, Madame Rosmerta winked at her, and Ginny put a finger to her mouth to indicate not to tell them. She winked again and with a flick two more shots appeared on her table. She gave the woman a dirty look, Rosmerta laughed and leaned her heaving bosom toward Ron. Ginny rolled her eyes and looked back at Harry. He'd already blown out all the shots and held one up for her, and then one for himself.

"She hates it when I don't take her booze." Harry grumbled and then threw the shot back.

"How often are you here?" She winced as the alcohol bit at her throat. Harry held up the next shot for her and her eyes bugged slightly.

"Often enough." He slugged back the second shot. "Take it."

"If I didn't know any better, Harry Potter, I'd say you were trying to get me drunk." She teased him and threw back her shot. Everything spun; he grabbed her ankles and dropped them to the floor, and spilled quite a bit of cash down onto the table. He started scooting out of the booth and said,

"I thought a Weasley never turned down alcohol." He offered her a hand up, keeping his back to the bar.

"Oh, so you're trying to get into my pants." She chided him, and a wicked grin spread across his face.

"Glad we're on the same page."

"Harry!" She shouted, and grabbed her mouth; she'd blown their cover with her drunken surprise. But before anyone seemed to even stir at the bar he had grabbed her arm and they went spinning off toward his apartment.

The apparation had expedited the effects of the alcohol, and they went stumbling up the stairs laughing at nothing. Once all the ridiculous Muggle locks had been opened he swung the door and grabbed her around the waist.

"Welcome home." He laughed and dipped her down for a kiss. She let out a laugh against him as the world spun rapidly from the dip. He brought her back up and quickly removed her cloak, letting it drop to the floor. With a few drunken steps she stumbled against the couch and fell back onto the cushions laughing out loud.

"It's good to be home!" She giggled and looked up at Harry standing over her. He was all shadows, the dim lights from Diagon Alley reflecting off his glasses.

"How do you feel, Ginny?" He rumbled at her, sitting down on the table across from her and dancing his fingers across her exposed mid-drift. Her robes were riding up from the fall over the couch, and she turned slightly toward him.

"Drunk." She grinned.

"You're all bones. What happened?" He pressed his warm fingers along her slightly pointy hip bones, and then they slow inched up under her shirt to smooth across her ribs.

"You're all bruises," she leaned forward and ran her finger down the cut across his collarbone. "What happened to you?"

"You first. You never answered me in the first place." His palm cupped around her ribcage and then slowly worked its way back down toward her hip. Everything gave a slight spin at the lust building within her already intoxicated mind. Without much resistance she murmured back,

"I'm sick, Harry. What did you expect? That going back to Hogwarts would magically cure me? That you leaving would make me better? I'm just doing the best I can." She pushed his hand away and sat up, pulling her clothes down as well.

"Ginny," he groaned inwardly and put a hand on her knee. "This is why you shouldn't have gone back. You should have just stayed..."

"Please," she interrupted him. With a quick move she got up from the couch and straddled his lap, sitting on his legs as he continued to sit on the table. His hands instantly snapped to her waist, and the building sadness that his worrying was creating started to ebb away with the lust her current position was creating. "Please, don't."

"I'm worried about you. This isn't good, Ginny." He told her chest. Then he took a large breath and looked up at her, his eyes a mix of black and such a dark green it made him look almost predatory, something fluttered in her chest.

"I'm not going to fight about this." She twisted a little on his legs and then watched him swallow hard. "We're both stuck with what we have. Me being medicated at Hogwarts, you escaping death on a weekly basis."

"That's not..." He started but she leaned down a pressed a kiss to his lips.

"It is." She whispered against them. "So stop wasting our valuable time with your gallantry."

"Gallantry." He huffed, but smiled, and she knew she had successfully redirected his thoughts.

"So how much time do we have?" She grabbed his wrist and looked at the brown leather straps, and gold faced watch, but it wasn't really a watch at all. She pulled his arm closer to her to examine it better, her mind buzzing with alcohol as she watched twelve different hands either spin around the face of it or remain steady on certain points. She thought they were numbers, but as she leaned closer down they looked like…Harry pulled his hand away and then swept her up off his lap and back to a standing position on the floor.

"According to my estimation if we can make it into the room in the next few minutes we will have all the time in the world. Because Ron's not expecting me." He leaned forward and surprised her with a near blistering kiss. She felt her knees waver slightly at the effect, and grabbed onto the back of his neck to steady herself. He came up for air and she panted,

"What else are they teaching you at this school?"

"Oh lots of stuff." He secured her against him and started moving them toward his room. "How to break into places, how to pick locks, how to incapacitate an attacker, how to interrogate a bad guy." He kicked open his door and they stumbled inside.

"Sounds like they're making you a criminal." She laughed and the dim light by his bed snapped on. He pushed the door closed and with a final stumble they landed against the back of his door. He looked down at her with dark green eyes and smiled, a bolt of heat raced down from her chest toward her feet.

"No. I'm still good."

"Hopefully not too good." She smoldered and he reached down and locked the door. Next his hands worked out the knot in her tie and slipped it slowly off her neck, and then he tossed it to the floor. Her body exploded with the longing she had been hiding from everyone. She hadn't realized just how much she missed his hands alone, and how they touched her. He started unbuttoning her blouse and then yanked it out from her skirt. She let out a pant of expectation. And then he dropped his hands and rumbled in her ear.

"I'm as good as you want me to be."

She stood there for a second, her chest heaving against his own, and looked up into his face. Both lust and fear were raging inside her. Here they were again, at her indecision. He read it in her eyes and smiled,

"So mostly good tonight."

"For now." It came out shaky. Without much prompting and without any hesitation from him she grabbed the zipper on his jacket and yanked it down. The clothes started coming off fast after that. His shirt was tossed toward his bed, landing on top of his lamp sending the room into near darkness. Her blouse was forgotten somewhere near the door as they both struggled out of their shoes on their way toward his bed. Her body was humming with anticipation. The alcohol burned in her blood, and she heard his belt hit the floor and realized she was only in her underwear. She leaned against his bed, he pressed against her and reached behind to pull the covers down.

They slid across the cool linen, and with a throbbing roll her hair spilled across the pillows and he propped himself up on top of her. One slow kiss at a time he made her temperature continue to rise. The amount of skin pressed against her, the heat of his body, the hammering of her pulse in her chest all collided together, building and building in her core.

"God I missed you." He sighed against her throat and started to move his lingering kisses down her body. Faster then she had anticipated her brain started to fuzz off, riding the emotions, and then she had a flash of the small pack of vials buried in the bottom of her trunk back at school. The vials she hadn't taken since leaving the Burrow, the vials that would have prevented a horrible mistake from happening tonight.

"Damn it!" She cursed out into the darkness. Even if she had wanted it, there was nothing she could do now. "I forgot to take that bloody birth control."

"It's fine." He ran his hand under the small of her back and then quickly over her hip and butt. "So it doesn't happen tonight."

"You're right." She sighed as he came back up toward her bra, his hand moving up her back as well. "So maybe just a little bad."

His fingers effortlessly snapped the back of her bra off and with one swift movement it was lost to the dark room. True to his word it didn't happen that night, but it was a night of several firsts, and they continued to dance dangerously close to the one line that still had not been crossed.

* * *

~*~

Author's Notes:

Yeah, yeah, I know. I continue to torture them _and you_ and then don't write all the gory details down! LOL!  
Big thanks to friendsofhagrid for her speedy work!


	20. Chapter 20

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 20~

_Things are gonna change,_

_And not for better,_

_Don't know what it means to me,_

_But it's hopeless._

_Everything is Everything - Phoneix_

* * *

~*~

She sat up with a start, suddenly disoriented and groggy. She looked around the bed: gray sheets, gray comforter. She was definitely not at Hogwarts. She looked to her right and Harry was still fast asleep. She looked down, she was wearing his shirt, and if the low slung covers were any indication he was wearing next to nothing.

"Harry!" She hissed at him. He opened his eyes a crack to reveal blurry green.

"What?"

"What time is it?" She looked around the room for her clothes; she couldn't find them, even with the bright light of morning pouring through his curtains. It was way too bright. She was a dead girl.

"Saturday. The time is Saturday, just go back to sleep." He groaned and grabbed her arm making her fall back onto the bed. She looked over his bare shoulder and saw the clock. 9:30AM. She had thirty minutes.

"I have to go. I have class." She threw the covers off and rolled her feet to the floor. She wasn't wearing any pants either, what exactly had happened last night? It started to come back to her in flashes: clothes piling up on the floor, twisted sheets around her legs, fingers and hands roaming all over her, his hot body sliding across her own. She blushed a bit. It felt like they had been up all night and only gone to bed a few hours ago.

"Who has class on a Saturday?" Harry moaned at her but he sat up and threw the covers off as well.

"I do. And McGonagall's going to kill me." She dropped to the floor and tried to find any of her clothes. Harry stretched for a moment, yawning, and then with his glasses still off waved his wand.

"Accio Ginny's clothes."

She watched as her skirt, tie, shirt, bra, shoes, and tights flew at him, bombarding him all at once. Then something hit the door and slid to the floor. That would be her cloak.

"Thanks." She huffed and pulled her arms into his shirt and grabbed the bra, putting it on without exposing herself. She had a quick flash of last night and smirked…well she really didn't have to hide them anymore.

"What kind of class is this? Can't you just blow it off?" He dangled a shoe off his finger.

"And not graduate. No thanks. It's the remedial sixth year class." She threw his shirt at the bed and pulled her own on next. She looked up from buttoning and he was grinning at her, and squinting all at the same time. "Skirt."

"Really?" He pleaded and let the shoe fall to the ground, but picked up her skirt anyway.

"Sorry." She snapped it in place and pulled on her tights and shoes, sitting at the edge of the bed. "I suppose you're leaving tonight."

"Sunday." He moved toward her and draped her tie over the collar and started tying it for her. "Gone for two weeks."

She held still while he frowned slightly trying to fix her tie. When he finished she stood up and looked at the clock again. Fifteen minutes. Would they constantly be fighting time?

"Harry," she started but he just leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"Don't be late." He moved away before she could kiss him back and pulled open the door. He reached down and picked up her cloak, holding it out to her. She moved away from the bed, looking back for one agonizing moment. Certainly McGonagall wouldn't expel her for missing a class. She hadn't sent out a team of Aurors to find her when she never made it back to Hogwarts last night. Maybe she'd give her detention. Or take her Captain title away. She hung her head. It was pathetic, but it was enough. She just wanted that Harpies spot too badly. She looked back up and Harry was yawning again, with only some pajama pants on. Covering the short space she grabbed her cloak and started moving for the fireplace.

She made it into the dining room first and threw her cloak over her shoulders. Then she heard a loud crash followed immediately by a splash in the kitchen.

"Ginny?" Ron was standing awestruck, a shattered tea mug now all over the floor.

"Gotta go. Late for class." She ignored him and grabbed a handful of Floo. "The Hog's Head." She shouted and turned back around before stepping into the green flames. Harry was in the dining room now, stretching far above his head, showing off all the bruises and scars he was accumulating. Ron's face went from startled white to blazing red in about half a second.

"Harry?" He bellowed.

"Sorry!" She called out to him and stepped into the fire. Harry gave her one beautiful smile, and then she was gone. She landed in the bar and Aberforth looked up from his paper surprised.

"Miss Weasley? Out late I assume?" He shook the paper.

"How much do I have to bribe you to ensure you don't tattle to the tabloids?" She joked and ran a hand through her hair.

"I'll see you today then?" He gave her a meaningful look.

"Fine. Round on me." She grumbled and he touched his wand to the portrait of Ariana and the door for the secret passage opened up before her.

She took off sprinting batting at spider webs, swinging her wand around to light the pitch black tunnel until she seemed to explode into the Room of Requirement. Her lungs burned, but she had far too much adrenaline running through her now to pay attention to that. She hip checked the door open, pushed a few Hufflepuff's out of her way, and slid around a corner. She took a flight of stairs two at a time, slid around the other corner, and threw open the door.

Her entire class looked up, startled and surprised, all at the same time. McGonagall actually stopped and the caulk dropped to the floor. The class bell blared throughout the grounds and she couldn't help it,

"Yes! I made it!" She shuffled through the desks toward Luna who still looked startled but was smiling at her.

"Excuse me, Miss Weasley. If you'll take you seat and explain your grand entrance." McGonagall pointed to the only empty seat in the class and she fell into it, her chest heaving at this point.

"Slept in. Sorry." She huffed and leaned against the desk for support.

"Let's not have that happen again." McGonagall's voice was crisp and clean, a very dangerous thing for it to be. "I'll need to speak to you after class."

"Of course. I apologize." She nodded and swallowed hard, still huffing with exhaustion.

McGonagall picked her book back up and started in on her lecture. She tried to hide it, but she was smiling.

"I didn't think you'd make it Ginny." Luna whispered lowly to her, putting her book between them. "Diagon Alley is quite far from school."

"Luna?" She glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, scandalized.

"Not too hard to put two and two together. Hermione couldn't find you and McGonagall wasn't calling in any Aurors. I hope you two had a nice night." Luna gave her a mischievous smile, and then pulled a handful of spider webs off her robes.

"We did." Ginny smiled right back.

* * *

~*~

It was a sight to be seen. Hermione, in blue striped pajama's, her hair almost twice it's normal size, was tapping her foot against the floor in their room, her arms crossed, and her wand letting off a crackle of sparks.

"And just where did you disappear to last night?" She darkly asked.

"Hogsmeade." She froze at the door.

"And just how did you get permission to go to…" Hermione trailed off, realization crossing her face, and she gave her an annoyed look, "Oh."

"I didn't know. I thought I was being punished." She put her bag down, but slowly and without breaking eye contact with Hermione. Her wand was still crackling and she got the distinct feeling that breaking eye contact would set her off.

"So where were you this morning?" Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"Diagon Alley." She put her hands up defensively, ready for the explosion. "And before you turn me into a toad, just know that I was ambushed. He kept apparating me away, and I'd had a drink or two."

"Ginny." She snapped at her.

"They were sent to him! He wasn't going to drink them. It's rude to leave alcohol!" She quickly explained and went to take a step but Hermione's wand sparked again.

"I was asked to look after you. Ron always asks me to, but Harry asked me specifically to make sure you stay out of trouble. So what am I supposed to think when you don't come down for dinner, and you don't come up to bed, and you aren't here in the morning? That you were kidnapped? That you were dead? That you decided to fly off the grounds and start a family band?" Hermione was in a raging temper now.

"A family band?" She couldn't help but interject, confused and amused all at the same time.

"I was literally two minutes away from reporting you missing to Ransach. I had to lie that you weren't feeling well to everyone. I don't like to lie, Ginny. Especially when I have no idea what's really going on." Hermione's wand punctuated her point with a shower of blue sparks.

"I'm sorry." She took a step and Hermione continued to glare at her. "I will make sure to send you an owl or something if this ever happens again."

"You better, or I'll punish you in the worst way possible." She warned, finally dropping her arms.

"Disembowelment?" She guessed.

"No, a feature with Felicity Dagwood." She turned from her and started tearing through her trunk.

"You wouldn't!" Ginny gasped.

"Try me!" Hermione warned, and then pulled out a small pouch. She threw a fistful of powder at their fire and yelled into it. "Harry Potter, 3 Tower Street, Diagon Alley."

The fire roared with green flames and then Harry's face appeared, still without his glasses on.

"You'll get your turn, Hermione. He'll pass out eventually." He growled and then rolled his eyes. Ron's voice quickly came into the fray.

"…pregnant at seventeen. I will not have my sister be some statistic! You need to keep it in your pants forever! I will kill you myself and feed you to the Giant Squid if you so much as touch her again without marrying her first! Don't think I won't do it! I have half a mind to tell my Mum what you did! Kidnapping her from Hogwarts! She needs to get an education!" Ron stopped for a moment and sucked in a very large breath.

"Hi, love." Harry turned and smiled at her. She smiled and lightly laughed, Hermione glowered at her.

"'Mione," Ron panted. "Take over."

"How dare you put me in a position where I have to lie for both of you!" Hermione picked up immediately where Ron left off. Both her and Harry started shaking with silent laughter. "It's bad enough I have to follow her around like some bodyguard every day! Now you make her disappear and send half the school into a fit over where she could have gone! I am Head Girl, Harry! I should be taking point from Gryffindor for this! McGonagall is going to rip her Captain title away if you keep up these antics. Then how is she going to play for the Harpies? Stop being so selfish and juvenile! I will not lie for you again!" Hermione took a giant breath. "And keep your hands to yourself! That's just disgusting. I don't want to think about that!" Her whole body shook like she'd eaten a lemon.

"Nothing happened." Ginny calmly supplied.

"You always say that!" Ron roared, apparently he'd caught his breath. "If nothing happened why were you running out of here with your school robes on? No! Don't answer anything! I don't want to know! You better not show your face in Hogsmeade today or I'll sick George on you!"

"George is harmless!" Harry laughed.

"Oh," Ron darkly warned. "You think so, do you? You just wait until he hears about this. I wouldn't accept any packages if I were you." Ron finished and she heard him walk away muttering to himself.

"I understand that you both miss each other, but a note could have alleviated all this mess. How hard is it to write a note, Harry?" Hermione grumbled.

"I'm sorry. I will in the future." He gave her a smile and Hermione shook her head,

"Ugh. Fine. I have to go lie that Ginny is feeling better now. Thanks!" She spun on her heel and left the room.

"So apparently I'm going to have to marry you, because I fully intend to touch you again." Harry laughed.

"He's such a hypocrite, just ignore him." She smiled and started loosening her tie.

"Did you make it?"

"Just barely. And then got an earful from McGonagall before coming up here to get an earful from Hermione." She sighed and sat down on the stone facing the fire.

"Sorry."

"Miss Weasley I expect a level of decorum and respectability out of you. I can't be granting you special dispensation only to have you go against school policy…blah, blah, blah." She mimicked and then waved her hand. "One week detention with Ransach. Which is actually quite a punishment for me because I despise the woman."

"Ouch!" Harry winced in sympathy for her. "Anything I can do?"

"Other then showing up and having her faint at the site of you, no." She stopped for a moment and yawned.

"Get some sleep, Ginny. You'll need it." His voice was soft, and starting to turn the slightest bit sad.

"I can sleep when I'm dead. There is far too much going on, and far too little time for me to do it." She rubbed at her eyes.

"Check your cloak." Harry lightly said, a small grin spread across his face. Ginny rose an eyebrow at his sneaky maneuver and after some fishing pulled a small red box out and into her hands.

"How did you manage this? Last night? This morning?" She held onto it and looked at his flickering face in the flames.

"This morning. Open it. It's not a ring." He laughed, nervous. She let out a nervous laugh as well, and then slowly opened the box. Inside was a small and peculiar looking stone. She held it up to the light of the fire and the stone became almost translucent. It was mostly milky white, but she could see that through the entire piece were ribbons of green and black that frayed and spun in all sorts of different directions. She could even see to the back where the strange patterns continued to move.

"It's a real amulet. I made sure of it. Apparently when you use semi-precious stones in the creation of them it enhances the spell or something. I'm a little bit fuzzy on that, I'll have to look at my notes. But, this one guy at camp was handing them out to everyone. His family has been in the amulet making business for generations, and I thought that…" He was going to continue blathering on unless she stopped him.

"Thank you." She held it close in her palm.

"No problem. I just want you to be safe." He lowly said.

"Harry," she laughed a little. "What could possibly hurt me here?"

He looked like he was about to say something, but then shut his mouth and shook his head.

"You're right." But he didn't sound convinced. Hermione and Ron both came storming back into their respective rooms. "Ron's back."

"Talk to you soon. You're coming to Hogsmeade today, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it for anything. Bye." He quickly said and then he was gone. She gave the amulet a squeeze in her hand and looked up at Hermione.

"Do your worst, but it was worth it."

"I think you've managed to crop up enough punishment on your own. Are you going to Hogsmeade in your robes?"

* * *

~*~

They struggled against the crazy wind that had picked up across the grounds. It whipped her blue scarf and hair around her head. The entire walk to Hogsmeade was a blur of blue and red across her eyes. When they finally managed to budge the door open the place was packed, and George gave her and Hermione a giant wave. Picking through the impressive amount of Hogwarts students she found Ron, in horrible magenta robes, and Harry looking devastating in a dark green sweater and jeans.

"Oi! Took you two long enough!" Ron called out tossing a squirming ball of something at Harry and pounding down the steps to grab Hermione up in a giant hug. Hermione let out a squeak and demanded that he put her down while a pink blush fell across her cheeks.

"Ginny, I haven't seen you in hours." Harry smiled and set down the squirming ball which quickly took off into the store on several legs. She cringed and stepped out of its way. Before they could even touch each other George yelled out above the chaos,

"Hey Seeker! Catch this!"

A small metal ball went flying across the store, and with a swift dart of her hand she caught it without much effort. She glanced over at Harry who shrugged and showed his own metal ball. Then it started to heat in her hand, but a cold burn, like a handful of ice. She frowned at the ball, which then turned bright white, she looked over at Harry, and his was the same.

"Good. Good." George made his way over and snatched the balls out of their hands. "No broken arms for you today, Potter." He narrowed his eyes and Harry tried to give a half grin, but it looked more like a grimace.

"Honestly." She huffed and watched as the balls turned back to regular silver metal. "What's this all about, George?"

"Watch." He gave her a devious grin, murmured something to the balls, and then yelled out to Ron and Hermione, locked in some kind of heated conversation, "Head's up!"

George lofted the balls into the air and Hermione stretched her hand out to catch one. Ron immediately jumped in front of her and the balls bounced off his chest and hit the floor with a loud bang.

"Ron?" Hermione asked over his shoulder. Ron gave George the dirtiest look she'd ever seen and kicked the balls back at him as hard as he could. They went sailing through the shop, and she heard a faint 'ouch' near the back.

"Something to hide, Ronnikins?" George let out a giant laugh and then dissolved into the store. She pressed her lips together to stop the laugh from coming up. Ron looked thunderous.

"Have you seen the new products shelf, Ginny?" Harry loudly announced and pulled her away as fast as they could manage. Once out of earshot he lowly laughed, "I take it you know what that was about."

"George didn't break your arms on site, so it appears my _honor_ is still intact. Can't say the same for Hermione, though." She giggled to herself and picked up one of the daydream potions.

"Poor Ron. I'm sure George has been plotting this for weeks." Harry let out a small laugh, his hand snaking up into her knotted hair.

"Didn't know Ron had it in him." She set one down, something about pirates and a lost treasure.

"Surely you knew." Harry hissed salaciously.

"About me being the last virgin of the family, yes. About Ron's sense of chivalry, no. I thought chivalry had gone out of style." She set down the next one about a far away fortress and knights in shining armor.

"Chivalry never goes out of style." Harry puffed up a bit, as if affronted by her comment.

"The next time I need rescuing from a tower I'll let you know." She laughed and set down the tiny vial for another one. This time it had something to do with horses and bandits and trains.

"Do you want things to be different?" His hand stalled in her hair, and she set down the vial with a tiny clink. After last night her hesitation about crossing that last line between them had disappeared. She felt a bolt run through her stomach down toward her toes, and her mind started screaming _yes, yes, please let's go somewhere and take care of this now_. But, she turned and smiled,

"Your arms are too valuable."

"Arms can be mended." He rumbled at her, closing the space between them with a single step. She took in a fluttering breath, the store seeming to fade away around them, and then someone yelled out,

"Harry?"

Everything instantly snapped back into focus, the chaos of the store, the close proximity of the two of them, and the fact that now several people were peering over displays and grouping together to get a better look. Feeling vengeful she looked up to see who was about to be on the receiving end of her bat boogie hex when Neville called out again, waving his arms about his head,

"Harry? It's been ages!"

It felt like she blinked and Ron and Hermione had materialized on either side of Harry. Almost like they had some summoning spell on then when anyone yelled out his name. Ron's arms were crossed; his face still slightly flushed from his exchange with George, Hermione had her lips pressed hard together and gave Ginny a slightly worried glance. Harry on the other hand seemed to be contemplating if he was going to curse Neville, or disapparate on the spot, his hand instinctively went for her arm, his fingers lightly grasping her jacket. She was the first one to speak, and it came out heated and hissing,

"What are you playing at Neville? Screaming out his name! Now the whole bloody store is watching us."

"Oh," he looked around at the standstill the shop had become, people blatantly staring and pointing, and turned back with a frown. "Sorry."

"I'll see you two later." Harry lowly remarked and Ron and Hermione both silently nodded. He gave Neville a thin smile, and she narrowed her eyes at him. His hand gripped down hard on her forearm, and they went spinning off out of the store. They landed with a thump just off the beaten path of Hogsmeade, the trail toward the Shrieking Shack, and the momentary control she'd had over her hair was instantly lost.

A biting autumn wind ripped down the path showering them with leaves and pine needles. Groaning she tried to catch all her flailing hair and wrapped her oversized blue scarf around it all, now only wisps and a few stragglers slapped around her head. She frowned up at Harry, who was nothing but smiles,

"You couldn't drop us outside the hurricane?"

"Sorry."

"I'm going to strangle Neville." She fumed and looked past his shoulder.

"There's far too much strangling going on in your family. Nothing a well placed slap wouldn't fix, really." He tugged on her jacket and they started walking down the path back toward Hogsmeade.

"But a slap is not nearly as dramatic as choking the air out of someone." She laughed.

"True. True." He pulled her close against him. It had been bouncing in her mind since the announcement, but she still felt nervous as how to broach the subject. Finally she just decided to go for it, pride be damned.

"So there's going to be a Yule Ball this year." She started out conversationally.

"Is there? Lucky me, I won't have to embarrass you with my lack of dancing skills." He squeezed her, and she swallowed hard.

"I was sort of hoping you would." She said to her feet, and they stopped moving. She ventured a glance at him from the corner of her eye and he was frowning, her stomach dropped and she deflated next to him.

"Are you asking me to the Yule Ball?" He looked over.

"Yes." She hoped he heard her in the howling wind. With a tiny push they started walking again.

"I don't know, Ginny." He linked his arm through hers, lacing their fingers together.

"Because you don't want to go? I mean it's just a dance. You've been fighting off Chimera's and Dementor's I highly doubt one spin across the floor will emasculate you." She pulled away from him slightly, but he wouldn't let go of her hand, they continued to walk down the path.

"I'd love to take you." He stopped and pulled her back. With a squeeze from him she looked up and he smiled. "But I don't know if I can. I don't know where I'll be, or what I'll be doing."

"I see." She kicked a rock down the path, refusing to look back up now, he'd read her crushing disappointment all over her face. It was annoying at times how well he could read her.

"You're mad." He exhaled.

"No." She kicked another rock.

"Ginny."

"It's fine." She shrugged.

"But I know it's not."

"Harry," she stopped. He stopped; his hair was blowing around wildly in the late afternoon wind. "It's a part of you. This is what you want. I understand."

"What I want is to take you. But I don't know…" he trailed off, and his face fell. "Crap."

She turned to look at his line of vision, and darting through the high winds and projectiles was a large brown owl, carrying a red envelope.

"Who would send you a Howler?" She let go of his hand as the bird dropped it off.

"It's not a Howler. It's a case." He growled and shook the bird off his arm without paying it. Ripping the top off he let it fly up into the sky, and it instantly dissolved into ash.

"But I thought…" she started and then stopped herself. Instead of voicing her disappointment at the sudden departure he was about to inform her of she shoved her hands into her jacket and wrapped her fingers around the Brighton Beach vial, and the new amulet he'd given her.

"I have to go." He tossed the letter to the ground; it turned into ash before it could reach the leaves.

"Right now? Or can we catch a butterbeer with Ron and Hermione?" Her fist pulsed around the rock and shells. Harry sighed and ran his hands over his hair, almost ripping at it.

"Right now." He lowly answered. "This isn't what I planned. I was told Sunday, I had this whole…" He trailed off and searched her face with sad and frantic eyes.

"It's okay." She tried to smile.

"I was going to make you dinner, and bribe Ron to do something else tonight." He shoved his own hands into his jacket. She looked across the gap between them squeezing the bottle so tight she thought it might break.

"That would have been nice. Thank you."

"Don't thank me for the things I can't even follow through on." He grumbled.

She looked down at his boots, the ash still swirling around like a tiny hurricane at his feet; she swore it started to change color. Then, like a strike of lightning the ash suddenly caught fire and started licking and swirling around his boots.

"You're on fire."

"I know, oh-for-two it seems. Can't make you dinner, can't take you to your Yule Ball." He ran his hand across the back of his neck, and looked up into the sky like it had the answers. The fire continued to grow around his feet.

"No, Harry. You're on fire." She backed up a bit. He looked down, annoyed, and started stomping it out. The fire refused to die.

"Part of the job. They literally light a fire under you if you don't respond." He stomped around again as the flames continued to grow. "I have to go."

"When will I see you again?"

"I…" he paused, frowned, and then reached out a hand to pull her close. "I'll write to you."

"So Christmas?" She gave a hollow laugh, but allowed him to pull her into his swirling ring of fire.

"I swear to you." He put his cool hands on either side of her face and tipped it up toward him. "You'll see me before Christmas."

"Be careful, Harry. Come back to me." She searched his face for the promise.

"I always will." He leaned down and pressed a single, burning kiss to her lips. "Bye." He released her and with a parting look of jade green and then disappeared before her eyes. For a single moment she stood in the fire, wishing it would consume her, and then it turned to ash and floated off into the woods. She made her way toward the Hog's Head to give Ron and Hermione the bad news.

* * *

~*~

_This time the beach was silent and unmoving. Even the small breakers made no noise. There was no wind, there were no distractions. Just her, the beach, and the frightening red sky. It turned the ocean purple, and cut across the clouds like blood on cotton. A warning. She closed her eyes anyway. _

_"Ginny." _

_She felt her heart break apart at his voice and opened her eyes; she was looking down at his blood-splattered sneakers; a fresh memory, not one of the older ones that haunted her. She looked up, expecting to see the battle weary Harry that had caught her before she passed out after the final victory. Instead he was bleeding, everywhere. Cuts on his arms, slashes soaking his shirt damp, matted and dirty hair, his dripping hand reached out for her, his eyes rolled to the back of his head. She grabbed his hand through what felt like a great distance and he turned to ash. Fire blinded her and she covered her face to find herself in another battle now years ago, a jinx exploding from her wand at unseen Death Eater's charging the halls. Hermione was trying to fend off someone in a corner. And out of nowhere, like she remembered, Harry came sliding across the hallway shouting out spells and jinxes as he passed. It rallied them all, surging them forward, Neville was yelling out things to Harry. He stopped himself, looked at her square in the face, and a horrible green light filled the hallway straight for him, blinding her. She screamed, her throat almost ripping open in horror, and she was gone again._

_ She put her foot down and it exploded with pain. Grimacing she pulled herself up on the stones slipping on the grime all over the floor and the battle opened up before her. Harry and Neville slashing and cutting their way around Death Eater's and trouble, the light from the spells burned her eyes. Harry dodged left, dodged right, skidded around the veil, and with an uncharacteristic stumble fell right next to it. They met across the expanse, brown on green, and then Lucius Malfoy kicked him through the veil. She opened her mouth, she tried to stand, but all that she managed to do was fall, and fall, and fall through blackness._

_ Outside the infirmary at Hogwarts was where she landed. Sobbing, it was all she could hear, so much sobbing, and she clenched her hands knowing it was him. Knowing it was his overwhelming grief. Her hand opened the door and her blood pooled at her feet. Cedric Diggory, alive and well, along with Ron, Hermione, and her Mother were all weeping over his lifeless body. So still in death that it made something snap in her brain. He was always moving, Harry never stopped moving, and yet stupid Diggory was blubbering over him, pulling at his robes and shaking him, making him move in unnatural ways, like a dummy. She forced her legs to move and her first step found her in the Chamber._

_ This time she was holding the destroyed diary, the basilisk coiling around them both. Harry was on the floor looking pale and worried, his wide green eyes taking in the horror around him. Yet, despite the role reversal, he was still clutching his arm, covered in sweat and grime._

_ "Ginny." He pleaded._

_ "It's okay, Harry. We'll get out of here. I'll help you." She tossed the diary toward the water; it made a slopping noise, and she bent down toward him._

_ "No, I don't think I'll make it." He pulled his hand away and she watched as the puncture wound in his arm started to dissolved into itself and turn to ash. She hit the stone floor and grabbed at him, the ash moving rapidly up his arm._

_ "No," her wand clattered to the ground. "No, you have to stay. Stay with me."_

_ "I was never meant to stay." He groaned, curling up in the fetal position on the floor._

_ "Yes you are! Yes you are. Stay with me." She felt his robes turn to ash in her hands and looked down at the sooty mess. He was vibrating before her._

_ "Ginny." He pleaded again, and a horrible wind ripped through the Chamber and he dissolved before her eyes._

_ "No." She whispered the sound echoing off the dripping walls of the Chamber around her, magnifying and multiplying in her mind. The snapping in her brain she'd felt just moments before, started to build pressure. She closed her eyes, sopping wet, dripping with tears, and rubbed the ashes of him across her face. Never meant to stay. Never meant to stay? What did that even mean? Of course he had to stay. Why was Harry always running away from her in her dreams? Why could she never have him, either in her dream world or her own? Why was the world tormenting her with blinding moments of passion and then months of darkness? Surely this was some horrible misunderstanding in her mind. Harry wanted to stay, he just couldn't. So why did every dream feel like abandonment?_

_ The Chamber started to fill with water, it pooled around her knees, and she realized she was wearing her gray dress. It billowed and expanded out around her, the water reaching her waist. The diary hit against her chest and she held it close; the book that had destroyed her, the book that had broken her, the book that would torment her for the rest of her life. She swore she could hear Riddle laughing as the water rose to her neck. The basilisk started lifting with the rising tide, but she was still stuck to the floor._

_ "You should have know, little one." He sneered close to her ear; she continued to look blindly forward. "It's only you and me. He's not coming. You'll have to save yourself." _

_ The water rose above her head and she let out all her breath._

Cold hands wrapped around her and she thrashed about for a moment and then looked up into Hermione's worried face. It was flickering between light and dark in the low firelight of their room. She was sucking in air like she was drowning, her hands aching from how hard she'd been holding the blankets in her fists.

"It's okay now, Ginny." Hermione said in a slow and soothing tone. "It was just a dream."

She nodded and let go of the blankets. Her breath was still coming out fast and hard, and she swallowed for a moment,

"In the bag, under the books, in a sock." She pointed to the bag leaning up against the window and Hermione nodded and brought back the vial; the welcomed blackness that would stop all the torturous dreams.

"Why didn't you take it in the first place, Ginny?" She quietly asked as she handed it over.

"Because I needed to see him again, even if it was in nightmares." The truth came out with the late hour and her exhaustion over the reoccurring reminders from her brain that Harry wasn't around. Hermione nodded and then swished her wand, a book came flying into her hand and she set it down on the bed between them.

"I had my Mum send it to me after that magazine ordeal."

They both looked down at the hardbound rectangular book. Hermione reached forward and flipped it open to the first blank page.

"How did your Mum manage to get it here?" She croaked and grabbed her glass of water, still holding onto the sleeping draught.

"We've been doing much better since that day at your house. She and my Dad are trying very hard to understand it all better. She even set up all the paperwork to get the house on the Floo Network. Still can't bring herself to buy an owl, though." Hermione smiled, and then turned the page to reveal a grinning version of Hermione's own eleven-year-old self. Under both her arms were Ron and Harry.

"This is a great picture." She touched the edge of it.

"I want you to hold onto this book for a while." Hermione turned the page, this one was Hermione looking harassed and bossy, standing next to a blushing Ron and a laughing Harry, they had to be twelve.

"I couldn't." She uncorked the sleeping draft.

"I didn't say keep it. I said hold onto it. You need the reminders more than I do. It just makes me…" She trailed off and moved toward her own bed, leaving the book behind.

"What? It makes you what?"

"Sad. It'd be better if you could get some happiness from it." She pulled back her covers and moved back onto her own bed. "You were the one that said you didn't have any pictures. Maybe I should get you a camera or something." She turned to her side and covered herself back up.

"Thanks, Hermione." She whispered, and received a small grunt of response before she left her for sleep. With the sleeping draught still in hand she flipped through the pages and pages of pictures that Hermione had managed to collect over the years. Several of them she'd seen often, some of them were brand new. One of them made her bite her lip.

It couldn't even really be considered a good one. Her and Ron seemed to be joking with each other in the common room, something they tended to do often, Hermione was in a chair next to them looking up with a bright smile, her legs folded underneath herself. Harry was sitting on the edge of the couch, and his eyes were bright and focused on her. She'd given Ron a shove, and a smile broke across Harry's face. She closed her eyes for a moment and then tipped back the potion.

* * *

~*~

She'd avoided Neville with extremely noticeable contempt over the next few days. Once again making things awkward for every one of their friends, but he knew what he had done, and had yet to show a feeling of regret. It would have been a suitable punishment except for the fact that she shared all but one class with him, and he was her Herbology partner. By the time Thursday night rolled around Seamus seemed to have had enough.

"It's bad enough that your temper can match mine any day. Can't you just punch him and be done with it?" Seamus pleaded on the oversized chair next to the fire. She looked up from her homework and frowned.

"No."

"Ginny, humor me, please!" He fell to his knees and stretched his clamped hands above his chest toward her. She set her quill into her book and snapped it shut with a bang. The clock gonged behind her and the portrait door swung open.

"I told you no! Now if you'll excuse me I have to go suffer through another night of Ransach." She snapped and pulled her sweater back on. Seamus bounced up from the floor and yelled out at her leaving form,

"You've left me no choice!" She turned to look at him. "I'm picking sides, now. I pick Neville."

"I hope you're happy together." She sneered and spun around. Dean and Neville were staring, slightly awestruck at the exchange before them.

"Ginny." Neville started, taking a step toward her.

"Save it. I'll be late for Ransach." She mumbled and brushed past them into the hallway. The first night, Tuesday night, hadn't been so bad. She was banging out erasers, scrubbing down the desks by hand from all the graffiti written on them, organizing books and shelves. All in all not a bad way to spend three hours of your night, considering last years DADA teacher had given out punishments that still haunted her dreams.

It was tonight that she was nervous about. Ransach had run out of things to give her to do. She had a sinking feeling tonight was going to net her at least another week of detention. She squeezed the vial and amulet in her pocket and hesitated right outside her office door before knocking.

"Come in."

"What would you like me to do tonight, Professor?" She asked immediately so not to waste time making idle chit chat that would only prolong the torture.

"Sit, please." Ransach looked up from her desk, still covered in parchment and stack and stacks of books. She sat in the plush velvet chair and squeezed the vial again.

"Why is that you don't care for me? Have I offended you in some way?" Ransach asked right off bat. She dropped the shells in surprise and opened and closed her mouth, like fish, a few times before irking out,

"Professor?"

"I'm not slow, Miss Weasley. I can see the contempt you hold for me. I'd just like to know why." She folded her hands over the papers she was grading.

"I could never…I don't…it's just that…" She stuttered, feeling the blush flood up into her hairline.

"It's just what?"

"I don't trust you." She honestly answered, and Ransach nodded slowly.

"What did I do to loose your trust?" She leaned forward slightly, Ginny felt herself lean back in response. Her eyes were filled with that manic gleam that always made her nervous.

"You're trying to get information out of us. I don't think that's right."

"Out of 'us' or out of just you?" She probed.

"Mostly everyone in class, but sometimes me." She started fidgeting with her hands, twisting her fingers with each other.

"And that bother's you why?" Ransach continued to hold her unnerving gaze upon her.

"I don't feel I need to tell you. It's my business." She folded her hands, so not to show her nerves, needing to summon some strength for where she felt this was about to go.

"You have no care for upholding historical accuracy? You'd rather we make assumptions and use lies to fill the history books?" Ransach's hands started gesturing around the room. A flash of irritation forced its way up through her nerves.

"No. But I don't appreciate feeling like I'm being forced to tell you. Like if I don't tell you I'll fail."

"I'm not going to fail you for refusing to answer my questions." Ransach looked honestly surprised.

"Maybe not fail me, but I have a feeling I'd barely pass." She amended, knowing that it was closer to the truth. Ransach gave her a knowing smile. She held her breath, feeling the line of questions start to form in the air around them.

"Why are you holding onto this information so tightly?"

"Why don't you just come out and ask what you really want to?" She countered, feeling the presence of Harry, but knowing that they'd never speak his name. As if he'd become some kind of legend, some kind of horror that was too powerful to actually speak about. It made her cringe; it was the exact opposite of what Harry would want. Ransach leaned further forward.

"Because I have several questions to ask, millions of questions to ask, and you seem to be the one withholding all the information."

"I was asked to."

"Specifically?" Ransach locked eyes with her. Ginny straightened her back.

"No. But some things aren't meant to be shared."

"Or some people might be hurt by what you know?" Ransach pushed.

"Not anymore." Ginny clenched her fists in her lap.

"But they would have before school started?"

"No." She ran her thumb over the now faded scar across the top of her hand.

"Before the summer?"

"No." Without even looking down the words flashed across her eyes, _I must not tell lies._

"Before the battle?" Ransach leaned forward, in an almost intimidating way, hovering slightly over her papers and books.

"No." Ginny felt herself steel against the woman, expecting the explosion any minute.

"Are you going to answer anything?" Ransach betrayed her cool but opening her eyes wide and flinging her hands out over the papers and books. She took a large breath, and willed the anger to fuel her instead of make her explode.

"No. I don't feel I need to. There are only two people in the world that know the entire story, and I'm one of them. I don't want books to be made, I don't want biography's to be written, I don't want articles, and reporters, and scholars, and teachers harassing us. I want to be normal, as normal as we'll be able to manage. And people knowing the entire story, people knowing the roles they had no idea they were playing will only cause harm. I was told all this in confidence, and I will die before I willingly offer it up. Fail me if you want, you'll get nothing from me."

"You love him." Ransach quietly said.

"Where've you been? It's splashed all over the papers." She snapped, and then dug her fingers into her hand. It was a razor thin edge she was walking. There was a difference between an argument and a fight.

"No. The papers think it's just teenage romance. Lust and hormones don't have this kind of loyalty. You love him." She gave her a smile, but it only twisted the steel control further in her stomach.

"I've always loved him, and I will continue to do so as low under the radar as I can. We just want some peace, how hard is that to give?"

"Peace," she sighed. "Is very hard to find. But I commend you for trying. Good luck. I hope he extends the same kind of devotion to you. You'd fail my class to protect him."

"I'd do anything for Harry, because he's done everything for me." She stood up from the chair. "Now if you had something for me to do I'd like to finish it and be done. I have a lot of homework."

"You can go." She leaned back. "Maybe it is because you remind me so much of myself. You've never stricken me as a wilting flower, Miss Weasley. People like us like to be pushed, we like to be challenged. We like to pull on our Gryffindor courage and bravery and loyalty. It makes us feel alive."

"If you say so Professor." She swallowed, because she was all those things and this mousy woman sitting at her desk, with a fire behind her eyes, could easily be her.

"Goodnight Miss Weasley. I'll make sure to find something to bore you with next time."

"Thank you, Professor." She nodded and backed out of the office. Her heart hammering in her chest, she took a steadying breath and charged back toward the common room. It was still bustling with students and games. With a wordless flick of her wand her homework came flying out from under Dean and into her hand. She gave a single look at Hermione, who stopped mid-sentence with Neville, and fled up the stairs.

She did have lots of homework to do, too much homework to do, but her heart refused to slow down, and she could feel it building in her. A hysterical moment was threatening to break through, and she had to stop it. She couldn't afford to be out for even a few days now. Her hand were shaking, her breath was fast and hard, she kept trying to rip open her bag but her arms and fingers refused to comply.

"Ginny?" Hermione calmly asked from the door.

"Agh!" She yelled at the bag and dropped it onto her bed, holding her shaking hands to her chest for a moment. She heard Hermione move across the floor and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Is everything okay?"

"Do I look okay to you?" She snapped and tried to open the buckles on her bag again, her fingers still refusing to comply.

"What happened?" Hermione continued to ask slowly.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." She managed to get a buckle undone and tried to work on the second one, her body starting to hum with shaking, she felt it in her lungs, and tried to pick up the pace.

"You're very upset. I haven't seen you this upset since…"

"Since this summer. And if you don't help me I'm going right back to the fourth floor." She snapped and ripped the bag open with her hands, canvas tearing, threads spilling across the bed. She promptly turned her bag over, dumping everything onto the comforter and found the small red pouch that held the potion she needed. It fumbled and fell back onto the bed, her shaking body always putting it right out of her grasp. Hermione's hand fell over the pouch and she pulled it up from the bed.

"Are you sure?" She gave Ginny a long look.

"You didn't just have to sit through an interrogation about Harry, alright. My nerves are shot, I'm exhausted, and…" she felt the hitch in the back of her throat and let out a short moan. "Give it to me."

"But you're stronger then this, Ginny. It's just a bad day." Hermione held tight onto the bag and took a step away from her. The words wrapped around in her brain, and she wanted so desperately to believe them.

"No Hermione, it's been a bad life."

"That's preposterous! You'll never get better if you take this every time you're upset. This isn't the hospital; this isn't the end of the war. You are stronger, you're a different person. You aren't horribly thin anymore, you aren't bursting into tears anymore, you are at school taking more classes then me, and you're Quidditch Captain!" Hermione took another step back toward the fire, and Ginny felt the panic explode like a bomb in her chest.

"Don't toss it in the fire." She warned, outstretching a hand toward her.

"You just have to calm down, and realize that anything that happens isn't that bad. It isn't anything that can't be fixed, or solved, or helped with. Just let me help you. Let me in, Ginny, you're so stubborn! You're just like…" But she stopped on the word.

"No. I'm not." She firmly said and ripped the bag out of Hermione's hand. "He had tremendous pressure always following him. He had the knowledge that he had to die to save us all on his shoulders. He knew he had to cut us all out to save us. I'm just having a momentary breakdown." She pulled one of the Draught's of Peace out of the bag and uncorked the bottle, tossing the rest of the bag to her now messy bed. "I really wish you'd stop comparing us, because I highly doubt Harry'd want to date himself."

"It's the only way to get you to stop." Hermione quietly said. "You've stopped shaking."

She looked down at her steady hands and sighed. The Draught of Peace potion slid back and forth in the bottle.

"You distracted me."

"Maybe that's all it takes, Ginny." Hermione took the potion back. "By all means, I'm not going to stop you if you crack up again. But you seem pretty sane to me. And I don't think anyone would have let you come back if you weren't."

"Sanity is relative." She grumbled and glared at the fire.

"What did Ransach want?" Hermione moved over to the bed and put the vile back in with the others, but held onto the bag.

"What do you think? The same thing she always wants. Information on Harry." Ginny leaned against her four-poster and watched as Hermione shoved the small red pouch into her own trunk.

"So of course you didn't say anything, it only aggravated her, and you felt like you needed to punch something." Hermione sat down on her trunk.

"No, I felt like she was right." She tugged at her tie and worked on a few buttons on her shirt. "She said we were more alike then I thought."

"How is that even possible?" Hermione raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Because we're both loyal and brave and crap like that. But she was right. I'd fail before I'd tell her anything." She shook out her hands and then crossed her arms.

"Ginny!" Hermione looked scandalized.

"What? I only came back to school because I felt like I had to, not because I wanted to. You're the only person I know who can get excited about tests."

"I do not get excited." Hermione looked offended. "But Ransach does have a point. You are loyal to the point of stupidity when it comes to him. Nothing would piss Harry off more then you failing."

"What? Why?" She dropped her arms surprised.

"Because you'd have to stay another year. It'd be more time apart. Why do you think he took the position now, Ginny? He could have waited forever if he wanted. The invitation to be an Auror would always be there."

"But," she started and then stopped. She'd always assumed it was coincidental, but she could see it now. Harry hadn't announced his plans until after her plans were finalized. She felt so stupid.

"He timed it this way for a reason. Maybe he shouldn't have gone right back to fighting, but he wanted to be done by the time you were. Failing would be the stupidest thing you could do. You have to pass. Everything." Hermione finished in a warning tone.

"No pressure." She groaned to herself. Hermione just shrugged.

"Life is pressure; it's the one constant we have. It's just how you deal with it that makes life interesting. I mean," she stopped looking worried for a moment. "Maybe Harry wouldn't be mad, but your Mum and Dad would. Bill and Fleur. Charlie and Percy. They would all be very disappointed."

"Not Ron and George, though?" She teased.

"They didn't graduate, so they have no room to talk." She haughtily replied and flattened out her skirt.

"You're going to hold it above his head for the rest of his life, aren't you?" Ginny felt herself laugh a tiny bit.

"I have no idea what you mean." Hermione examined her nails and then gave her a small smile. "Now, let's make sure you pass Potions."

She groaned, but pulled out her book.

* * *

~*~

The Halloween Feast was quickly approaching, the weather had already turned, her homework was vast and deep like an ocean. Between the study groups, the endless nights of essays and practical work, and the Quidditch practices that she'd managed to squeeze in any chance she could get, she hadn't had time to worry about much else. It seemed to make Hermione happy that she was too busy to feel anything at all; the draughts were making things at least bearable.

"So are you ever going to forgive Neville, or should I just give up?" Dean commented over lunch one day. Hermione was working on a letter back to Ron across from them and she looked up momentarily to see her response.

"When he apologizes I will." She took another bite of her pasty.

"What's unforgivable deed did he do again? It has been weeks you know." Dean looked up and down the table for Neville but he hadn't made it to lunch yet. Or he was avoiding her; it was a mutual avoidance.

"He knows what he did."

"But do you?" Dean quickly countered.

"He outed Harry in George's shop on our first Hogsmeade weekend. That was just mean, and it monopolized valuable time I had." She finished off her lunch.

"If I remember that weekend correctly you'd already been off campus, slept at Harry's apartment, and then charged back to Hogwarts for your morning class. Then you went to Hogsmeade to hang out with Harry again. So what time did he monopolize exactly?" Dean crossed his hands over his clean plate. Hermione's quill stilled in her hand and the rest of their small section of table stopped to see what would unfold.

"If _I_ remember correctly you'd told me to choose." She lowly started, her eyes narrowing at him. "I think I'm making it pretty obvious who I've chosen."

"Maybe you two should shut up." Hermione hissed. She broke eye contact with Dean for a moment to see the table leaning forward, and then Neville and Seamus walked into the hall. With a groan she picked up the last part of her sandwich and slung her books over her shoulder.

"Watch it Dean. I don't think our little five some could take me ignoring two people."

"What ever would we do without your witty comebacks?" Dean rolled his eyes at her. She raised her wand, but saw Ransach out of the corner of her eye stand up from the head table. With a quick flip of her hair she charged out of the hall almost clipping Seamus on her way out.

"Still not talking to me?" Neville lowly asked.

"Nope." She huffed and stormed out of the hall. She'd wanted to talk to Professor Turnsdale anyway.

* * *

~*~

"Captain Weasley! To what do I owe this extreme pleasure?" He smiled at her with those too white teeth, and too blue eyes, and kicked his feet up onto his desk, leaning backward in his chair. The only person that seemed to overshadow her momentary flashes of celebrity was Professor Turnsdale. His story seemed to be the current scandal that the tabloids continued to salivate over. Gorgeous, world class, Quidditch player gives up the game at the height of his prime to go teach a bunch of sniveling Hogwarts students. Was it injury? Was it the never confirmed but often assumed love child between him and Belinda Hodges from the Harpies? Is he hiding between Hogwarts walls to avoid the Goblin Mafia and a debt he owes them?

Ginny had grown an incredible soft spot for the one person who seemed to actually and fully understand the strain of the media. It was like a fly that wouldn't die. You can ignore it for a bit, but sometimes it flies right by your ear and you're suddenly filled with rage and annoyance, swatting all around you to try and kill it. Professor Turnsdale never seemed too ruffled by the media storm his appointment to Hogwarts had created. He never seemed too ruffled ever. His mud caked boots cracking and dropping pellets of mud all over his desk was the more current example that came to mind.

"Professor, I was wondering if you'd heard anything back from your friend?" She smiled.

"The scout?" He smiled back.

"Yes." She bit the inside of her lip to stop from looking like a grinning idiot.

"He'll be here. I've noticed your practice schedule, quite impressive. Almost professional I'd say. I was able to catch a few moments of your last one, excellent selections for your team. If I didn't know any better I'd say you're trying to create a legend of your own here at Hogwarts." He pulled his feet up off the desk and with a lazy flick of his wand banished all the mud.

"I just really enjoy Quidditch." She politely said.

"You just really enjoy winning." He corrected.

"Maybe both."

"Makings of a champion in you." Turnsdale zeroed his eyes on her, not smiling this time. "I can see it. I always had an eye for picking it out in people. I can tell with you, Miss Weasley. You were meant to be on a pitch."

"Thank you, sir. That really means a lot coming from you." She tried to think cold thoughts so she wouldn't blush. She didn't want him to misinterpret it. She wouldn't be blushing because of who he was, but because of what he saw in her. The only person, it seemed, that saw that kind of raw talent she felt was ready to burst from within her.

"I only speak the truth, and to those that deserve to hear it." He smiled again, the intense look leaving his face. "Which brings me to your last test."

She swallowed hard, her bag feeling heavy on her shoulder. With a heave she set it on the nearest table and took a deep breath,

"Yes?"

"I need you to be much further along then this with your non-verbal's. It's slightly under the class average. If you want I can set up some extra study time, I know of a few study groups that could really help." He passed along the notes on her test. All she saw were red words and scratches.

"I don't have any more time." She told the paper, morosely.

"Surely you can spare a half hour somewhere?" Professor Turnsdale sounded concerned and she looked up quickly.

"Of course. I'll talk to Hermione." She nodded and shoved the test into her backpack.

"Please do, Miss Weasley. I'd hate to see all your well laid plans go to waste." He said in a stern voice.

"You and everyone else I know." She felt her mind swim with the knowledge that she'd be doing non-verbal practice on her lunch break now, either that or some time after eleven on Saturday evenings. She wished she'd never come back for what felt like the hundredth time.

"It will all work out fine. You'll graduate on time." Professor Turnsdale's voice cut through her panicked thoughts and she looked at him hard. How would he know about her graduation anxiety? "And even if you don't you can still try out for the Harpies and be an alternate until you finish up your classes." He finished. She felt all the air leave her chest. Another thing to worry about.

"Thank you, Professor." She slung her backpack back on and pulled her beach talisman out, clenching it in her hand.

"Hang in there, Weasley." He smiled and opened a drawer to pull out some papers. The first bell rang and she took off down the hall for her class.

* * *

~*~


	21. Chapter 21

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 21~

_I got tired of waiting_

_Wondering if you were ever coming around_

_My faith in you was fading_

_When I met you on the outskirts of town_

_Love Story__ – Taylor Swift_

* * *

~*~

"Miss Weasley, I'd like a word." McGonagall called out over the leaving Saturday morning class. She gave Luna a quick roll of her eyes, to which Luna smiled and patted her arm before parting. Once the classroom had emptied she moved up to the front desk.

"Yes, Headmistress?"

"I haven't received your off campus request for the Yule Ball yet." She said in a distracted tone, fingering through a stack of papers. Ginny dropped her bag in surprise, still unable to speak. "You only have a few days left, and then I can't arrange the Portkey for Mr. Potter."

"He's not coming."

Weeks, and weeks, and weeks she felt she'd waited to hear from him. Every morning, every evening, every afternoon, she scanned the owls hooting above all their heads looking for one that was coming from him. They never were. It would be a note from her Mum, just checking in, or a funny card from George who'd taken to sending her random bits of mail since the food fight scare, but nothing from Harry. It was as if he'd disappeared. Again. The tabloids still had enough to speculate about. But whatever it was that he'd been called away for after that Hogsmeade weekend it was intense, because no one had seen or heard from him, not even Ron.

She tried not to think about it. It made her want to vomit. Often enough she'd find herself walking down the halls and catch a head of black hair and clench her teeth, sick with worry.

"Not coming?" McGonagall's stack of papers hit the desk with a soft whoosh.

"I haven't heard from him since the Hogsmeade weekend. I don't know when I will. I don't know where he is." She felt numb; it dropped from her mouth without emotion.

"That is most troubling." McGonagall started, and then pursed her lips together. "You see, Miss Weasley, you have to go to the Yule Ball. Head Boy, Head Girl, Prefect's from years four and up, and Captains. I'm afraid it is tradition."

"So was the tournament beforehand. Can't you just let me slide?" She looked up at the Headmistress with pleading eyes.

"I'm afraid not. You are going to have to find someone to take you." McGonagall implored; her mouth curving into a thin frown. She felt the room start to dim on the edges of her vision. Her control, the constant control that she'd had to put in place to get her to this point in the year, was reaching a boiling point. She didn't know how much more disappointment she could take, or how much longer she could stand the demands and pressure she'd put on herself. Having to go to the Yule Ball was one thing, having to now find a date for it as well felt like a snapping point.

"Headmistress, you've received an owl." A third year interrupted their conversation and Ginny took that as her leave. She grabbed her bag and made a bee line for anywhere in the castle that would get her away from it all. It was a pretty hard task these days. Since there wasn't the fear of death from wandering the halls they were always full. Plus, the weather had changed and it made better sense to sneak into an abandoned corridor, or hide in an unused classroom then to brave the windy, soggy grounds. After running into her fifth Hufflepuff she pushed through one of the courtyard doors and pulled her jacket close to move toward the greenhouses. They were always empty on the weekends, no one wanted to do Herbology homework within them, and Professor Sprout enjoyed her two days off.

She resembled a wet cat as she pried the door to the fifth year greenhouse open, and leaned against the glass. Pushing her hood off, and wrapping her sopping hair into a twist she heard a pot clatter and smash against the ground and hung her head.

"Ginny?"

"Neville." She whispered to her shoes. She shifted her backpack and he seemed to shout instantly,

"Don't go."

"It's a little too wet to leave." She growled and slammed her bag down onto a dirt-dusted counter. Her wet jacket came off next. Day's like today were particularly hard because it reminded her she was poor as well as cursed with bad luck. Her jacket had done little to shield her from the rain; her shirt was damp as well.

"I want to talk to you." His voice bounced as he moved toward her.

"Can't we just pretend the other person isn't here?" She wrung her hair out again, it was getting so long that it was in the way more then anything else. She started pulling the tangled mess into a sloppy braid, still avoiding him. Thunder and lightning broke across the sky and she looked up through the dirty panes to see the darkened clouds.

"No," he gave her a soft touch on her shoulder. "We can't."

"I got really bad news today, I don't know how much more control I have." She finished her braid and tied it off with some string from one of the workstations. Finally she turned toward him and crossed her arms over her damp chest. He looked different, changed somehow. She saw him every day, and yet didn't see him. They had both become very good at avoiding each other and only paying attention when it was imperative. Like most of the boys in her life he seemed older, and the slight tan he'd had at the start of term was now gone.

"What news? I didn't see anything in the papers." He took a step toward her, concerned.

"You're looking?" She took a step back and leaned against the wall again.

"I always look. It's important to be informed of what's going on. There's still Death Eater's out there terrorizing families and escaping the punishment they so rightly deserve. If I hadn't promised my Gran that I'd finish school I might have signed up right along with Harry." He brushed off his soil covered hands along his pants.

"Don't. All it brings are scars and bruises and danger. You're better off graduating and being some kind of Herbologist. I hate that he's an Auror." She snapped and then covered her mouth; she hadn't meant to say it out loud. She'd been thinking it, thinking it a lot over the last few weeks, but she had the frightening feeling that if she said it out loud, if she voiced it, it would almost be like cheating on him. They'd fought so much about it, they'd tried to make peace over it, but in the end she still hadn't changed her mind. Flashes of that night when she'd poked his scar taunted her. If he hadn't been able to agree with her then, he never would.

"Do you really feel that way?" Neville quietly asked. "You always seemed so supportive."

"Why would I want him to constantly be putting himself in danger?" She locked eyes with him. "Who the hell would? Other then girl's who only loved the idea of him and don't actually love him."

"Well, love can be an ugly thing. Sometimes it brings out the worst in people." Neville said cryptically, looking away.

"Are you saying my not being supportive is ugly?" She felt a weary pulse and rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands.

"That's not what I was talking about." He sighed and seemed to deflate against the table across from her. "Look, Ginny, I miss you. I miss my friend. Can't we just be over this and go back to normal?"

"I can't even remember what I was mad about right now, Neville. I don't know." She tucked some loose hair that had not made it into the braid behind her ear.

"I know why you were mad, and I shouldn't have done it, but I don't think it warranted a month of solitary confinement when it came to you." He propped his hands up on either side of himself, seeming to use the table to keep himself upright. "I just called out to him in the store. You're too protective of him. And he's too protective of you."

"I'm sorry," she snapped to attention, having a flood of the memory wash through her brain. "I was under the impression that a boyfriend and a girlfriend are supposed to support one another. How would you even know what its like to be us? To have your face in the tabloids, to have salacious rumor's spread about you? I can't go anywhere, I can't do anything, I can't be seen with anyone without it igniting something. I'm miserable because of it. And to add insult to injury he's not even here to shoulder some of the attention. So I'm sorry that I was upset that you spurred another round of whispers and articles about us, but you should have known better."

"Ginny, if you're miserable then what are you still doing with him?" Neville reached across the gap between them and held onto her shoulders. She wanted to shake him off, but first she was too tired, second she was too sad, and third she was so lonely. Hermione wasn't really the hugging type, and it felt like no one had touched her in a sympathetic or even friendly kind of way in such a long time. She bowed her head.

"I love him."

"Why does that sound like an excuse?"

"Despite it all, I love him." She looked up. "I do, Neville."

"Even though you're miserable?" He frowned at her.

"Even though I'll continue to be miserable. McGonagall told me I have to go to the Yule Ball." She shook her head slightly, annoyed.

"And that's a bad thing because…" He trailed off.

"Because I have no date." She bluntly put and fell silent, absorbing the heat from his hands on her shoulders. It was taking the chill out of her bones, her clothes still damp with all the storm water. Her thick, wet, braid was starting to curl at the ends, and she watched as Neville's chest started to rise and fall with a faster pace.

"I'll take you."

"No." She moaned and tried to move away, but he kept her in place.

"Ginny," he waited until she looked up. "Please, let me take you."

"That's a bad idea, Neville. You should take someone who deserves your time. Take some girl you fancy, or even some girl you just sort of like. I'd be your worst possible choice. I'll be sullen the whole night. You shouldn't take me." She made sure to move out of his hands this time. She grabbed her coat and hung it on a doorknob; with a flick of her wand it was instantly dry. Not that it would help much on her trudge back to the castle, but at least she wouldn't have to put a wet coat over her wet clothes.

Neville's hand fell onto the frame of the door, stopping her from leaving, and she turned around to find him inches away. His right arm was above her left shoulder and his body was leaning toward her. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt her stomach give a nervous flop.

"Let me take you. I wouldn't want to go with anyone else."

"You must be crazy. I haven't spoken to you in weeks and now you're ready to take me to this dance?" She searched around for the knob with her hand, feeling slightly trapped by his close proximity, it was making her head swim a bit.

"Are we friends are not? You're going to have to try harder then a little spat between us to get rid of me, Ginny Weasley." He smiled that slightly lopsided smile that he'd only give her when they'd accomplished a very daring and very productive mission last year. There was so much history between them, so many life debts, and personal debts, and deep connections. Things Ron and Hermione would never know, things even Seamus and Luna never knew, things she'd never tell Harry. That thought made her pause. Wasn't she supposed to be able to tell Harry anything?

She guessed there were just some things that didn't translate. He probably had memories or stories about Ron and Hermione that just couldn't be repeated because they wouldn't make sense without the context of the moment. There were certainly things about her past boyfriends that she knew she'd never speak of in front of him. Yet, somehow, with Neville, these secrets seemed wrong. But she had missed her friend in Neville, that best friend relationship that had formed. She craved that unconditional bond that continued to hold them together, that had managed to get them through to this moment right now.

"Fine. But don't expect me to like it."

"There's the Weasley I remember." He laughed and pulled her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around him as well, and then let go. He held on a little big longer, and she squirmed out of his hands.

"So are we friends again?" He grabbed her backpack for her.

"Until you piss me off." She threw her cloak on.

"Doubt it! You love me." He joked and threw a hip toward her. She punched him in the arm.

"You have far too much confidence in reading my emotions. I despise you." She pulled her hood over her head and opened the door to the torrential downpour. Neville shrugged into his jacket as well and then grabbed both their bags.

"You love me." He teased.

"Keep wishing!" She teased back, and then they made a break for the castle.

* * *

~*~

"You seem cheerful today." Hermione looked sideway's at her in Potion's.

"Do I?" She distractedly answered and continued to dissect the frog in front of her. Professor Slughorn, despite the wailing cries of several of the female students, had decided they needed a proper lesson on how to dissect the animals they used in potions so often. Today started with frogs, she was afraid to know what came next. Hermione had already made quick work of her own, gaining the much needed twenty points to Gryffindor. They were still fifty points behind Ravenclaw after the food fight, and while everyone was doing their part she was starting to feel the pressure. The fastest way to pull ahead would be to beat them in Quidditch, and that task fell on her shoulders.

"Yes, the last couple of days you've been in a much better mood. Could it possibly be the fact that you and Neville are speaking again?" Hermione swept invisible dust off their table.

"It does seem to make everything easier in my life when I'm not trying to avoid someone. So yes, perhaps that is it." She stopped to wipe at her forehead, the dungeon never seemed to cooperate, either it was stifling in the winter, or freezing in the summer.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, Ginny." Hermione said quietly. It seemed out of place so she looked up to find her frowning.

"What?" Ginny exhaled.

"Nothing."

"Please, just say it. I might be feeling better but my temper is still on a very short stick." She jabbed the frog a little too hard. "Sorry."

"The frog is dead." Hermione sighed. "It's none of my business."

"But." She prompted and pulled out the last thing she needed. She leaned back in her chair, wiping her sweater covered forearm across her forehead again, and then looked at her blood splattered hands. "Scourgify!"

"But I heard that you're going to the Yule Ball with Neville."

"And?" She looked over at Hermione, who was biting her lip.

"Did you break up with Harry, and I didn't know?"

"No." She calmly stated.

"So why aren't you going with Harry?" Hermione leaned forward, almost whispering it, even though they still had a Muffliato spell on the classroom.

"Because I have no idea if Harry is dead or alive. I haven't heard from Harry in over a month." She started, feeling her blood pressure rise.

"Neither have I." Hermione cut in.

"McGonagall told me I had to go to the Yule Ball, even though I begged her not to go. And I've missed the Portkey deadline."

"Harry could come anyway, he has before." Hermione injected again.

"Neville asked." She continued without stopping. "I said yes. Easy enough. Maybe if Harry wasn't out vanquishing evil all the time he could have gone with me. Not like he'd want to anyway."

"That's not fair!" Hermione snapped. "How do you know if he wanted to or not?"

"He doesn't like dancing. He doesn't like crowds. He doesn't like attention. This Yule Ball will be nothing but that." She hissed.

"But he _likes_ you. He'd do anything you asked, and now you're just going to go with Neville without even giving him the chance to turn you down?" Hermione's cheeks were turning red with anger.

"He already turned me down, Hermione. He basically said he didn't know what he'd be doing by December. He said he'd see. I gave him plenty of time to figure it out and still haven't heard anything back. I have to go; I don't have a choice, so I have to have a date!" She banished the remains of the dead frog with a little more force than necessary.

"I think that's a fair answer. You can't expect him to know when Death Eater's or trouble is going to come up. He's trying the best he can, Ginny." Hermione clenched her fists. The rosy cheeks, the determined look, the clenching hands all made Ginny's blood boil further. It had been so long since she'd thought it, but the memory popped into her mind immediately. In the end, Hermione was always Harry's friend first.

"If this was opposite would you still be fighting with me?"

"What?" Hermione shrieked at her.

"Tell the truth!" She yelled back.

"Of course I would. How dare you. How dare you." She broke off, tears filling her eyes and turned away from her. Remorse flooded her and she moved to touch Hermione's back and immediately apologize for being so horrible, but the bell for class sounded throughout the castle and Hermione moved so fast she could have sworn she apperated.

* * *

~*~

Now it seemed to be Hermione's turn to hate her. She was hoping it was Luna next so she could just be done with everyone despising her for a week at a time. Hermione refused to sit with her for the next couple of days, leaving a bewildered Dean, Neville, or Seamus to fill the spot. The boys at least had enough sense not to ask what was going on. Every time she was close enough to try and apologize Hermione would take off. She even tried staying up and waiting for her, but the sleeping draughts made her pass out, and they lasted for eight hours exactly. If she took them any later than already planned she'd never wake up in time. She knew what she had to do; she'd just have to endure a night of nightmares in order to talk to her.

George had once commented, back in her fourth year, that if Hermione, Ron, and Harry got any closer they'd be triplets. She had laughed and asked why. And still remembered, to this day, the laughing tone he took when he told her,

"I'm a twin, I know these things. You start to take on the other person's personality until it's too difficult to figure out where you end and the other begins. You mark my words; if things get worse around here we won't be able to tell those three apart."

George, like always, was right. Things did get worse, the three did get unbelievably closer, and now it appeared that parts of each of their personalities had rubbed off permanently on each other. Hermione used to be a big crier, lots of tears and hiding. Ron used to be explosive with his temper; it was Weasley trademark after all. Harry used to be solitary in his rage, cutting anyone out that had managed to piss him off, which was often. Now she saw all three of them in the stony indifference Hermione was giving her. She waited until the day of the Halloween feast.

An entire week without Hermione's help had been dreadful. She was an excellent task master, and brutal in her demand for obedience. She was positive that the only reason she was doing so well was because of Hermione. She also was quite sure the only reason Harry and Ron got as far as they did at Hogwarts was because of Hermione. She'd ducked out of the festive Great Hall well before dinner was over and sat in their room. Waiting. She even managed to take a little nap before Hermione finally snuck into the room right around midnight. Ginny watched as she took off her shoes, and tiptoed across the room.

"Hermione, I need to talk to you." She lowly said, but it still caused her to jump, shoes flying.

"Ginny." She grabbed her heart, her name coming out in a whoosh.

"I know you're mad at me. I know you are avoiding me. I just wanted to apologize. I'm really sorry. I was completely out of hand, and I shouldn't haven taken my anger over Harry out on you." She quickly said before Hermione could disappear again. She watched as her friend tucked some hair behind her ear and moved up to lean against Ginny's bed.

"I'm sorry too. I keep forgetting that I need to just butt out when it comes to you two. You're both quite capable of dealing with your problems on your own. I shouldn't have said anything." She looked down at her hands.

"No." She leaned forward and put a hand on her arm. "Harry's your best friend. You had a right to ask. I probably should have told you, but this whole situation makes me angry. I don't want to go at all. And to have to find a date, when all I really wanted was for Harry to come…" she dropped her hand. "It just complicates everything when we're all so close."

"It really does." Hermione gave her a small smile. It made a rush of relief fill her body, and the fatigue of staying up washed over her, she leaned back in her bed. "I've missed you. Seamus thinks he's funny and Dean can be so haughty at times."

"Tell me about it!" She yawned, her eyes watering.

"Oh no. Your potion. You can't take it now." Hermione stood up from the bed and turned to her. Ginny waved her off,

"One night of nightmares isn't going to kill me. Maybe they won't be nightmares, maybe I'll have pleasant dreams about rainbows and butterflies and crap like that."

Hermione broke out into a long laugh, and then moved to her trunk pulling out a heart shaped vial.

"Or maybe we can make sure you do." She gave Ginny the bottle.

"What is this?" She palmed the bottle.

"One of George's daydream potions. I believe this one has to do with castles and knights in shining armor. Maybe you won't get the kind of sleep you need with your regular draught, but it might be able to alter your brain just enough that you won't have nightmares. Well at least for two hours." Hermione reached into her hand and pulled the top off.

"Are you sure about this?" She looked at the potion.

"No, but it's better then what you'd get without it, right?"

She swallowed the potion as her answer. Hermione smiled and went into the bathroom to get ready for bed. She was out before the door closed.

* * *

~*~

_She was in a giant field of sunflowers; they towered above her and shaded her from the blazing sun in the cloudless blue sky. She put out a hand to push some of their leaves and stalks out of her way and let out a low laugh._

_ "Oh my." She had several rings on: a ruby on her pinky, a large safire on her middle finger, and bands of silver on her thumb. Then she noticed the enormous bell sleeves, and the ridiculous frothing of lace that seemed to be spilling from underneath the dress. She was in a long, heavy, velvet gown, hunter green, with an open front that exposed the lacy shift beneath it. It drug across the dirt and grass, spilling out behind her like a carpet. The front of her dress laced up with thick white ribbon, and the corset nature of it made her small chest look ample and heaving._

_ "You have got to be kidding me." She whispered to herself and started to make her way through the field. The sunflowers parted after only a few moments and in front of her was an enormous castle, much like Hogwarts, with towers, and turrets, and entire walls of stained glass, even a moat. All around it were orchards of trees, and fields of flowers. There wasn't a single village, even a single villager; she seemed to be all alone, tucked against a mountain in this absurd fantasy. She guessed that made sense, you don't want some dodgy villager ruining your moment. She crossed the bridge, her heels (which she rarely wore in real life) clicked across the wood and she stopped in the courtyard. _

_ The courtyard was also deserted. Ivy and roses climbed up the stone pillars holding decks and patios above her. A small fountain filled with koi fish bubbled happily in the near silence. She made her way across the small inlay of stone, peeking around corners, leaning into doorways, but the place was empty. She moved back out into the courtyard and sat down on the edge of the fountain._

_ "What kind of daydream is this? I'm the only one here." She told the empty space, and was promptly greeted with the sounds of clashing steel and cursing. Coming out of a corridor she knew to be empty only moments before was a flash of brown hair followed quickly by a shadow of black hair. She remained seated, her mouth opening slowly as Neville and Harry came rolling out of the doorway clashing swords and wearing billowing white shirts with very tight pants._

_ "You can never have her!" Neville shouted and lunged at Harry with his jeweled sword._

_ "She was never your's to take!" Harry smirked and easily missed the jab. They continued to fence getting closer and closer to the fountain. As they approached she noticed that while they both looked like Harry and Neville from afar, the closer they got the more different they appeared. For one thing Harry wasn't wearing glasses. They both had this kind of rugged edge to them, far too much bravado, and she didn't want to think about it, but a lot of chest hair that was peaking out from their shirts. She tried to look away but it only made her eye focus on the very tight pants they were both wearing that left little to the imagination._

_ "You'll have to kill me before I leave again!" Neville rolled and jabbed out, Harry's sword met his and a shower of sparks fell over her. They started backing up toward the fountain and she suddenly found herself caught between the two, Harry to her left and Neville to her right, and their sparking swords continuing to shower her in the middle._

_ "If it pleases my lady I'll kill you now." Harry laughed and they both took a step toward her, she leaned back to miss the sparks, and promptly fell into the fountain. It was freezing, and she came up sputtering and coughing, her clothes sticking to her skin, the dress weighing her down in the shallow water. Koi fish started biting at her ankles and she stood up, shooing them away. Water poured from the impractical outfit, and Neville was gone._

_ "Where's Neville?" She looked around._

_ "I've dispatched him." Harry stabbed his sword into the ground and leaned against it, a haughty smile on his face. It was something Harry would never do and this annoyed her._

_ "Why'd you kill him?" She yelled. Fantasy Harry blanched for a moment and then offered her a hand out of the fountain; she crossed her arms refusing his hand._

_ "He's kidnapped you for the last time, Princess. There was only one way to ensure your safety and the safety of the kingdom. Does his death upset you?"_

_ "Did you just call me Princess?" She let her hands drop, her rings and bracelet's glittering off the surface of the water._

_ "The fall must have pained you. You are not yourself. I must get you to your bedchamber so you can change." Fantasy Harry proclaimed, sheathing his sword, and with one solid movement yanking her from the fountain and cradling her in his arms._

_ "Bedchamber?" She repeated, looking into his face, but he looked forward stoically and took off down the hallways. Her dress was slopping around everywhere leaving a trail of water behind them as he burst through doorways, and ran up stairs, never losing his breath._

_ "It has been three long months since I last saw you, my lady. I feel I have served you well in the battle against our enemies. You can imagine my horror upon arriving here to return as your personal guard to find you a captive in your own kingdom. Villagers deserted you, your own court has betrayed you, and our evil foe attempting to ravage you and take your honor." He stopped at a door and looked deeply into her face. "I have failed you."_

_ "I'm going to have a word with George over this." She mumbled to herself. It was almost impossible to believe the situation at hand; then again she'd never really been much of the fantasy type. The script was horrible, the situation was improbable, and she had the distinct feeling that something entirely not PG was about to go down._

_ "You must hate me, my lady." He set her down, now covered in water as well, making his clothes stick to him. She was definitely sure Harry was not that muscular. "I will take my leave."_

_ "Wait." She held out her bejeweled hand, her long fingernails (another thing she didn't have in real life) scratched across his chest as he turned to go. She didn't know why she told him to stay; she thought it must have something to do with the potion. Fantasy Harry's face filled with hope and against her conscious will her fantasy self said in a very seductive voice, "I need assistance in removing my corset."_

_ "As you wish." He reached behind her and pushed open the door. The bedroom opened up before her and she let out a tiny laugh. An enormous four-poster bed filled the room; you could easily fit six people on it. Gauzy bolts of fabric wrapped around the posts and shielded the bed through a white veil. Large oak furniture filled the rest of the room: a desk, a chair, a wardrobe, a table, and a trunk at the foot of the bed. Large displays of flowers spilled over every ledge and surface, a soft breeze lofted through the space. Despite it seeming to be mid-afternoon at the beginning of the dream, now the entire space was filled with a red and gold glow from the sunset spilling from the windows._

_ "It has been so long since I last saw you." A deep baritone voice growled at her. It was disarming, it sounded nothing like Harry._

_ "Don't speak." She commanded._

_ "If it pleases you." He said and then silently pulled at the bottom of her corset to untie the knot. Slowly and carefully Fantasy Harry pulled the ribbon out of each hole of the corset. With every millimeter he went the dress started to loosen and breath. She stood still as his fingers worked the thick ribbon, and felt herself start to heat up a bit in anticipation. There was something to be said for corsets, it did add excellent suspense to undressing. His fingers stalled on the last loop, then he ripped it out with force and her dress fell to the floor around her, leaving only the lacy shift that was still clinging to her body. Continuing to stay silent his hot fingers traced along the contours of her figure, and then he moved up close to her face. Her heart started to pound in her chest, his breath fell across her neck making the tiny hairs tickle her._

_ "I miss you, Harry." She sighed and let her head rest on his too broad shoulder._

_ "As I have missed you, my lady."_

The dream started to fade, the room became a haze of grey, and then she was alone in her bed, feeling more depressed and lonelier then she had before the potion. She felt some tears sting at the corner of her eyes.

"So how was it? You weren't screaming all night. I hardly heard you!" Hermione asked from her bed. She was lacing up her sneakers, a dark blue sweater and jeans already on. Slowly she sat up, the tears slid down her face, and Hermione froze.

"Let's not do that again." She gave her a sad smile and pushed the covers off to go to the bathroom.

* * *

~*~

Saturday came and went far too quickly for her taste. All it left was Sunday evening before her whole routine started again. Quidditch practice had been very productive. They had worked out some of the kinks in their defense, and she had seen an odd man with a tweed jacket making notes on a pad in the stands. She'd figured it was the scout, but unidentified visitors at Hogwarts always made her slightly on edge.

Hermione was drilling her on the non-verbal's she couldn't seem to master in front of the fireplace for a least an hour before the rest of their group started to nod off.

"See you tomorrow." Dean yawned and shuffled his feet toward the stairs. Seamus gave a wave and followed quickly after. Neville appeared to be studying one of his books, but then his head dropped quickly and snapped right back up.

"I'm awake." He said to no one, and then turned wide eyes onto her and Hermione. Neville blushed a bit and then closed his book. "I'm going to bed."

"Night." She laughed and turned back to the pin cushion in front of her. With all the concentration she had left she tried to imagine the damn thing turning into a porcupine so hard that her brain started to hurt. Nothing happened. She dropped her wand to the floor and leaned back against the couch.

"I'm going to fail."

"Try again." Hermione prompted distractedly correcting one of her Charms essays. "Remember to focus your intention."

"Intention." She huffed and closed her eyes.

CRACK!

"What the bloody hell?" Hermione shrieked and jumped up from her chair.

"Kreacher?" She yelled, surprised. The house elf gave a very low bow, his ears hitting the floor.

"Kreacher says hello to his master's girlfriend."

"Um, thanks?" She scrambled off the floor to sit on the couch. Kreacher stood back up and fixed his aged eyes upon her, ignoring Hermione altogether.

"Master has asked me to give you a message. A very urgent message."

"Hand it over then." She held out her hand.

"Master could not write. He wished for me to tell you that no matter what it says in the paper tomorrow he is fine."

"What?" She and Hermione said in unison, she moved to the edge of the couch.

"Master has suffered a horrible accident. Very broken, very burned. There was a vicious dragon that broke loose. The dragon has been contained but people were hurt. Master was hurt worst. He is at St. Mungo's right now. But he is fine."

"Like hell he is." Ginny shouted and stood from the couch attempting to break away and figure out how to get to St. Mungo's.

"Wait!" Kreacher called out with urgency. "Master does not want you to come. He asked Kreacher to make sure you didn't."

"How are you going to stop me?" She said down her nose to the house-elf.

"I'd be careful." Hermione quietly voiced. "House elves have their own kind of magic, Ginny."

"He said, 'Please, Ginny. Please, don't. Please.' I must make sure you do not go." Kreacher held out his hands in front of him, finger's spread and she got an ominous feeling.

"Then why did he summon you in the first place?" She snapped, still refusing to sit.

"Master wished for me to tell you he will be fine. That he is sorry he could not write to you. That he is sorry that this mission was so long. That he wishes things were different. That he wishes he could be better for you. That he misses you. That he loves you. That he is sorry. Then he grabbed Kreacher and demanded that I not let you come and see him. Then he passed out." Kreacher gave another low bow.

"Oh dear." Hermione's voice seemed very far away. She grabbed the edge of the couch and forced herself to stay upright. The sound of her breath was echoing in her head, it was the only thing she could hear.

"Ginny? Ginny?" Hermione swam into view. "Breathe!" She took a large breath and everything shimmered back into focus. She ignored Hermione and fell to her knees in front of the house elf.

"Tell me, Kreacher. Will he live?"

"Of course." Kreacher gave her a short bow.

"Will he be scared, where are the burns?"

"Master has been burned on his left hand and arm, his left chest, and his left hip. The dragon blew a ball of fire right toward Master, and he was able to shield the family it was intended for, but not his entire self." Kreacher played with a silver locket in his hand.

"Oh, god!" Hermione gasped.

"The breaks, Kreacher. Where is he broken?" She pushed, trying to stop her hands from grabbing his rags and shaking him.

"To get the family to safety master levitated them down a cliff, but then fell down the cliff himself. He broke his right leg in two places. He broke his left arm, and two fingers on his right hand." Kretcher put the locket back into his pocket and she caught a glimpse of it. Slytherin's locket. Her stomach turned.

"Before or after the burns?" She meekly asked, trying to hold back the wave of nausea. Kreacher didn't answer immediately, and she lost all control. She grabbed the front of his filthy rags and shook him hard, twice.

"Ginny, stop!" Hermione yelled.

"Did he break everything before or after the burns?"

"After." Kreacher's voice bounced around as she shook him one more time.

"Jesus!" Hermione hissed. "Oh, Harry. Harry."

"But he'll live, Kreacher?" She continued to hold onto his rags.

"Master was already healed when he summoned Kreacher. Master looked very much alive. Kreacher suspects it was the pain potion that made Master pass out." Kreacher continued on with his calm voice, despite the violence that had been inflicted upon him. Ginny released her hands immediately and sat back on her heels.

"Thank you, Kreacher. I'm sorry I shook you." She put her hands over her mouth, her dinner threatening to come back up.

"Kreacher is proud to serve his master. He is a good master." He gave another low bow and with a loud CRACK was gone again.

"Ginny, I'm so sorry. This is horrible, but he's fine. He'll be fine." Hermione put a hesitant hand on her shoulder, and she felt herself go hot with fever. Her stomach rumbled and after one gag she threw up all over the floor.

"Don't worry, we can clean it up. Everything will be okay." Hermione soothed and waved her wand over the mess. She lifted her shaky hands and shot a scouring spell at herself as well.

"It's fine. I'm fine." She stood up.

"Ginny, you're not fine." Hermione grabbed her wrist to stop her.

"I have to be, don't I? Too dangerous for me to know what it is he's doing. Too scary for me to come see him at the hospital. I never know anything. I have no reason to be worried. He thinks he's protecting me. I should be fine." She said in a controlled voice feeling hallow and light now.

"I…he…just…" Hermione stuttered, for a moment unable to find anything to say.

"He just sent Kreacher so I wouldn't make a scene. He sent Kreacher so I wouldn't have another fit." She looked into the fire.

"He sent Kreacher because he loves you." Hermione tugged her arm to try and get her attention. It didn't work; she looked at the fire for another moment and then turned away, pulling her arm out of Hermione's grasp.

"If he loved me, he would have let me come. It's only fair, he did it for me."

Hermione slowly nodded and let her go. She made it up the stairs, undressed in a fog, tipped back her potion like she'd been trained to do, crawled into bed, and welcomed the oblivion that would wipe away the panic she wasn't allowed to feel.

* * *

~*~

The expected hush that fell across the Great Hall Monday morning would have been comical if she was in a better mood. At almost every plate, on every single table was a copy of The Daily Prophet. All eyes snapped to her, some with worry, some with intrigue, some looking quite malicious waiting to see the tears. Hermione was whispering fast and low to the other three as she approached and took her seat. She filled her plate with the appropriate amount of food; the appetite potion was already pumping through her veins, and poured a cup of tea.

"Ginny." Neville started first.

"Harry is fine. I don't want to talk about. Let's pretend this never happened." She said to her food and refused to look up. Seamus attempted to move his copy of the paper under the table before she could see it but the headline blared across the page, taking up almost half of it:

**Harry Potter Clings to Life After Daring Rescue!**

She let out a low breath and looked up at the enchanted ceiling, it started to snow.

* * *

~*~

The owls over the next three days were excessive and annoying. They darted after her down hallways, they showered her with sludge and snow at meals, and they pecked at her hands as she was coaching her team. That was the one that annoyed her the most, because it made her look bad in front of the scout. Every day that she had booked he was there in that tweed jacket taking notes.

Everyone seemed to want an update on Harry, and for whatever reason they continued to think she was holding back information. Harry was the surrogate son and brother to her family, and while he was her boyfriend Ron probably knew more than she did. Hermione seemed to be getting owls hourly now from Ron, and despite trying to hide it, she could tell Hermione was very worried.

Harry was always getting hurt, or maimed, or broken in some fashion, but someone had always been able to see him. This time he neither wanted nor asked for anyone's help. Bill and Fleur had gone to St. Mungo's to try and find him. After arguing with the head nurse for an hour they came to find that her Mum and Dad, and herself had been added to his list of emergency contacts. They were the only people that could see him. The next day her Father had gone, managed to get through to the hidden ward they were keeping all the injured parties from their mission, only to find that Harry was gone.

She pulled out George's letter again, now creased and worn from how many times she had folded it.

_Gin-Bug,_

_Dad told me the Minister himself pulled him aside to talk to him. They were able to heal up Harry pretty fast, once he was fine he checked himself out. The Aurors still there think he went back to try and help finish up what was left. No one can really say because it's all very confidential._

_I guess he was in and out before any of us even knew. Take care, love. I'm worried about you. _

_George_

But she knew. She'd known before it had even hit the papers. Hermione, over the last few days, had been trying to tell her that it proved Harry's unwavering love. She agreed, but it still stung that he didn't want her there. He'd spent his entire summer making her blankets, giving her food, sleeping in chairs by her bed, and he couldn't even let her spend a single night by his side? She folded the letter back up and tucked it into her pocket.

"I've been thinking about why Harry wouldn't have asked for you to come to the hospital, Ginny." Luna voiced next to her as they walked toward Transfiguration.

"Why?" She looked over at Luna, wrapped up in a blue and black scarf and her winter robes.

"I figure he didn't want you to stop him." Luna continued her eyes far away.

"How'd you come to that?" Ginny shoved her hands deep into her coat, wishing the castle wasn't so blasted cold.

"Harry has always been secretive. But Harry has also always been steadfast. If he had a mission to complete, I don't think he'd let some broken bones and scars stop him." Luna paused outside their classroom. Ginny looked at her friend slightly uncomfortable at how close to the truth she was. "But you would, Ginny. And Harry would do whatever you ask."

Luna turned and skipped into the classroom, leaving her in the hallway, dumbstruck and anxious. Luna was right, it was most likely the reason he'd sent Kreacher. But, that also meant that he had left the hospital to immediately go fight whatever it was out there again. Students started filing past her into the classroom, whispering as she continued to stare out onto the grounds, fingering all the little things in her pocket now: the vial, the amulet, and her letter from George.

"Nervous about the game, Captain?" Professor Turnsdale gave her a friendly pat on the back.

"Yes, of course." She distractedly answered, then looked up at him. "I mean, no."

"It's alright to be nervous. Only two more days until the very first match. I think it's going to be spectacular. Although the snow will make things difficult for the Seekers." Professor Turnsdale gave her another pat and then made his way into the classroom. Her stomach turned, two days? Two days? Where had the time gone? A breeze of familiar sandalwood brushed past her and she looked up just in time to see Michael Corner shoot her a cheeky grin. He strolled into the classroom to cheers from all the Ravenclaw's.

"Bloody Corner." She mumbled to herself and then straightened up and went into the classroom herself. The Gryffindor's exploded with cheers, and a rousing first verse of 'Weasley is Our Queen'. Ravenclaw's started hissing and booing, Gryffindor's started gesturing and yelling, and she took her seat next to Hermione.

"That's enough." Professor Turnsdale laughed. "Settle down."

"Everything okay?" Hermione lowly whispered.

"Fine. I'm fine." She snapped, sick of the question at this point. Hermione turned away, stung. For a moment she thought about trying to smooth everything over, but the impulse quickly passed and instead she banged open her book and zeroed her eyes to the front.

* * *

~*~

Two days. Two day. It kept bouncing around in her head. She tried to get some homework done but all her eyes could see were the defense and offense charts she had drilled into her team. Even when she closed her eyes all she saw were blurry images of Quidditch stands and fluttering Snitches. She'd never fall asleep, and there was a part of her that didn't want to. The control that she had willed upon herself with all the potions was helpful when it came to homework, but it made her entirely too sedentary and slow feeling for something as explosive as Quidditch. So, without telling anyone, she decided not to take the potion tonight. Instead she was going to work on some homework, go over her charts, and feign sleep if Hermione came in.

She might have finally started to warm up to the idea of Quidditch, but Hermione continued to find several other things far more important. She kicked around some dirty clothes, pushed aside stacks of books and homework, but she still couldn't find her Defense book. Deciding it must be downstairs she pulled on a jacket and headed out. As she hit halfway down from the girl's dormitory she heard someone talking in the empty common room to the fire.

"She's asleep."

"Oh. You won't go wake her up, will you?"

Her heart stopped in her chest. It was Harry's voice. He must have Flooed the fireplace. A small sound escaped her throat; she took another step, and then froze.

"No. She has to sleep, Harry. You know how busy she is. Anyway, it doesn't matter, once she takes the potion she's knocked out for eight hours straight. She should have taken it about an hour ago."

"I understand. I just thought…"

"Thought you'd pop in and prove you're not dead? I'm glad you did. But I'm the only one awake." Her voice, while sounding relieved, was obviously disapproving.

"How is she? Really?"

"Sad. What did you expect? She was really upset that you sent Kreacher, Harry. You should have just let her come. We were warned she might go into a depression and your antics only made it worse. I mean, Dean, Seamus and Neville are always trying to cheer her up, but she's always better when you are around."

"Does she not have any friends that are girls?" He sounded annoyed, and it made her smile.

"Just me and Luna. Why? Jealous?" Hermione teased him.

"Always."

Her heart started beating fast in her chest.

"I should have come back to Hogwarts."

"You don't get to say that." Hermione snapped at him. "You made your choice, live with it."

"I know." He snapped back at her.

"This was going to be hard enough for her. Two years to cover at once. Now she has this scout sitting there at every practice watching what she does. She's going to get a tryout for the Harpies if she wins this game, Harry. So much is riding on this year for her, and all she wanted you to do was share it with her. Instead now she gets random scraps from you and second hand information from Ron." Hermione steamed out in a harassed tone.

"I just thought that if she went back with you and Luna everything would be fine. I thought it would be enough. I couldn't go back, Hermione. I mean, I think about it, but it just wouldn't have worked." He croaked out at her, his voice sounding fatigued and solemn.

"Don't worry. Plenty of people are constantly watching her back now."

Hermione gave a little snort and crossed her arms leaning back a bit.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry snapped at her.

"I'm not going to lie to you; it's a very tight knit group of friends she has. I swear she can't go anywhere without one of them following her around. But I can't tell if it's because they like her, or if it's because they're all that close. A lot happened when we were gone, Harry. I'm just starting to hear pieces of it now. But that's the choice you made, so just suck it up and wait it out."

"Easy for you to say." He sounded angry and exhausted all at the same time.

"When she was in the hospital," Hermione started slowly and calmly, but Ginny could tell she was annoyed.

"Don't do this." Harry moaned.

"When she was in the hospital you told me, _you told me Harry_, that all you wanted out of your life was to kill Voldemort and to have a normal life with Ginny."

"I know."

She sucked in a surprised breath. She hadn't heard this.

"Even when she was sick, even when the nurses thought she might not pull through, you told me that you wanted _her_. A normal life requires you being here, Harry!" Her voice rose to an irritated pitch. "A normal life requires dating, and marriage, and houses, and babies. You choose to fight evil instead. You choose it."

"Please, just stop." He groaned out at her.

"I'm just stating the obvious. Because you somehow lost your mind in all this mess and forgot that you have a gorgeous girlfriend that is severely depressed by your antics and feeling abandoned here at Hogwarts."

There was a long moment of silence. Just Hermione's quick breath and the crackling fire, she held her own, knowing there was still more to be said, but frozen to the spot. She turned her attention back to her feet, trying to get them to move.

"She's going to break up with me, isn't she?" He sounded so defeated her heart broke in her chest and she tried to physically lift her legs, they wouldn't move.

"No, Harry. She's not. But you're not making this any easier on her. You could at least write to her."

"Really, I can't. You know I would if I could."

"I know." Hermione quietly replied.

"You should have just woken her up. I don't think she would have minded the missed sleep."

"Like I said, I can't. She'll be dead to the world until six o'clock tomorrow." Hermione countered. She tried to move her feet again, tried to say anything, but she was frozen. A slow realization started to form in the back of her mind. It wasn't her brain that had paused her, Hermione had.

"Crap. Everyone's starting to wake up. I have to go."

"Bye, Harry. Be safe."

"I'll try. Watch out for Ginny, will you?"

"I always do."

"Bye."

The fire rose and then settled back down into red coals. Hermione shook her head disapprovingly at the fireplace and then started to gather up all her books. She couldn't move, at all, she'd been frozen to the spot and the injustice of it all started to burn in her chest. Hermione paused at the bottom of the staircase and absently waved her wand,

"Finte Incantatum."

"Why would you do that?" She screamed. Then slapped her hands over her face, she hadn't realized it would come out as a scream. She pounded down the stairs, blazing with fury, and stood over an extremely startled Hermione. "Why, Hermione?"

"I…I…thought you were asleep! I didn't know Ginny!"

"You couldn't look at who you froze? I was there the entire time! What were you going to do if someone was actually there? Memory charm them? Why would you do that?" She dropped to her knees, feeling the tears start to form in the back of her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I put that spell on the stairs every…I thought you were..." Hermione stuttered, turning white. Ginny just shook her head and glared at the fire. So close. He was so close. She felt his voice echoing around in her head, and dropped her face into her hands, hiding the tears she knew were coming.

"I'm sorry." Hermione said again, and her stomach contracted as the first set of tears broke through. The Fat Lady swung open to Dean and Neville chatting about something.

"Ginny?" Neville's voice broke through, and she heard two sets of shoes running toward her. Hermione had been right about one thing, she was never left alone. Maybe she was being too nice to the boys, maybe it could be considered leading them on. She felt both sets of hands lightly touch her back, and for what felt like the hundredth time since she'd gotten here wished they were Harry's.

"Leave me alone." She shook off their hands, her face still puffy with tears and anger. "Everyone just leave me alone." She shot to her feet and started to back away.

"Ginny, I'm so sorry." Hermione's meek voice pleaded. She turned on her,

"Especially you!"

"Ginny?" Neville and Dean shouted in confusion. She felt Neville's hand absently grab her elbow, something he always did. Something she always let him do, and the shame of knowing that she's allowed it all this time flooded her.

"I said don't touch me, Neville." She ripped her arm away and ran out of the Portrait hole. Not caring where she went just needing to be alone for once.

* * *

~*~

She woke up on the floor of the Charms classroom. Her body ached, and she couldn't shake the chill that the stone had blasted into her all night. With a quick reorganization of her clothes she pulled herself up, and made her way down toward the Great Hall. It was Thursday. One of her hardest days now coupled with the upcoming match as well as the disaster of what waited for her in the Great Hall, caused a giant sigh to escape. A quick glance at the clock told her she could still make it to breakfast on time. She really didn't want to, but she knew she had to eat something despite not feeling hungry.

Her eyes landed on the Gryffindor table and the four of them looked up. Hermione was still ghastly white, with eyes rimmed with red. Neville and Dean continued to just stare at her, both confused and wary. Seamus waved his arms over his head, but she frowned at them and walked over to the Ravenclaw table. An explosion of noise erupted as she moved across the Hall, past the Hufflepuff's almost bursting at the seams there were so many of them, and came to stand behind Luna. Everyone around Luna stuttered to a stop and looked up. She knew it was a calculated risk; the match was far too close to be sitting on enemy lines. But she could not face nor want to deal with any of the four of them. Let the Great Hall turn into a hurricane with all the hot air escaping today, she didn't give a single damn.

"Oh," Luna smiled at her. "Hello, Ginny."

"Morning, Luna. Do you mind if I sit with you today?"

"Of course not!" Luna slid over, the entire bench paused for an unbelievable moment and then shifted to let her in, and she sat down at the empty plate. "Pumpkin juice?"

"Actually tea, please." She grabbed the pot and mug and started pouring and then put some food down, mostly just for show. Everyone was still silent around her, and the Great Hall sounded like snakes had been set loose there was so much whispering.

"As I was saying, William, I just don't believe that the legislation the Ministry has set in place will actually benefit any of the Magical creatures. All it does is make the Wizards feel safe. They should have just as much right to be on their land as we do. It should be a partnership, not segregation." Luna finished and bit down on a piece of toast. The table fell into a forced relaxation, conversation started back up, and she drank in the black tea and slowly picked at her food.

"I just can't comfortably say that I would share my land with a Manticore, Luna. They are unpredictable, spiteful, and dangerous. Not to mention a nuisance. I think that giving them their own land, separate from the Wizarding community would benefit them. They can be within their own element, unafraid of when a Wizard might finally turn and kill them out of fear." William rebuttled. Ginny's head swam. It was almost seven in the morning; no one should be talking like this.

"Yes, but where would this land be? Somewhere exactly like the homeland's we're pushing them from, or wherever it's convenient for you?" Luna argued, and William blanched.

"What do you think, Ginny?" William zeroed in on her, and she froze mid chew. The whole Ravenclaw table turned to look at her and she swallowed hard.

"Well," she cleared her throat. "There are varying degrees of danger when it comes to magical creatures. I think each one should have their own specific investigation to see if they really are a threat. Like, Werewolves. We can't have wild ones around Wizards or Muggles. But there is progress of them turning away from their instincts and using Wolfsbane to control themselves. We can't banish the good with the bad. It's a complicated situation." She bit her lip, hoping she hadn't sounded like a complete idiot.

"Sure you're a Gryffindor?" William teased, and the table let out a laugh. The bells started chiming and everyone stood to leave. Luna turned and smiled,

"Where are all your books?"

"In my room." She grumbled.

"You can share mine today if you'd like." She leaned forward and picked something out of her hair. "Bit of dust in your hair."

"Thanks." She dropped her head and her neck popped. It was going to be a very long day. Her hand absently ran to her pocket and fumbling around with the objects as if they'd give her strength. They stood to leave and she glanced over at the Gryffindor table, they were all still sitting there. Hermione stood up, to get a better look, and she turned and started steering them toward the other door,

"Let's go this way."

* * *

~*~

After hours of mind numbing learning, most of which she slept through, she stumbled into the room and saw a slowly bubbling caldron. She stopped right inside the doorjamb, confused and worried that it was probably nothing good. Hermione emerged from the bathroom and froze seeing her there.

"Ginny, please don't go."

"What is this?" She nodded toward the center of the room, a soft, sparkling haze spilled over the sides of the caldron.

"I felt so bad about what happened last night. I've been trying to fix it." She walked over and dropped some items into the mix.

"It can't be fixed. What's done is done." She crossed her arms, anger flaring through her chest.

"But…but it's not." She stammered and stirred the pot. The white haze turned into purple smoke with a bang. "I can't fix it completely, but I've been working on this all day." She carefully stirred the mixture counter clockwise four times and then stopped.

"Did you not go to class?" She dropped her arms, now amazed. When she hadn't been sleeping she had buried her face in her books, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone.

"Of course not." Hermione stirred the smoking mixture counter-clockwise six times. Then jumped up from the pot and went tearing through the books next to Ginny's bed. She pulled out one of the pictures from her picture book and without much concern tossed it into the pot.

"Hey, what are…" Ginny started and then slowly started moving toward the center of the room. Hermione poked at the mixture with her stick, the purple smoke sucked back up from the sides and into the pot. She quickly blew out the fire under the caldron and stood up.

"Where's the sound?" She looked down into the mixture with a frown. But Ginny barely heard it. She moved toward the pot and looked down. There on the now glassy surface was Harry. He was sitting in a tent, the walls flapping madly with what must have been strong winds. Staring ahead, his hand would occasionally scribble down something. He looked tired, and tanned, and older. He looked down, shadows started moving around him, closed the book he had been scribbling in, and got up from the table.

She touched the rim of the caldron, it was freezing, not the heat she had expected. She snapped her hands back up to her sides as he left the tent into a windy, barren looking mountain camp. People were hurrying around everywhere, some levitating what looked like prisoners, some talking in huddled groups. He moved past them all, people giving him nods as he passed, and he pulled back the flap on another tent to reveal what looked like sparse living quarters. Another man, one she didn't recognize at all, gave Harry a wave and started talking to him.

"What did I do wrong? Why isn't there sound?" Hermione fretted next to her. Without looking she found her arm and held onto it tightly. It quickly shut her up. Harry said something in return; the man gave him some pats on the back, and then left him alone in the tent. He quickly pulled on a black sweater, over all the black he was already wearing, and started shoving items into his pockets from the drawer next to his bed. Finally stopping on a final item, she sucked in a startled breath. It was her necklace. The one she'd been wearing the last time she'd seen him. The silly Narggle protector that Luna had given her, hanging on a red string. He put it over his head, shoved it under all his clothes, patted all his pockets, and then walked back out the flap into the blinding sunlight.

The clear surface started to move, Harry started to ripple and expand, and then he was gone. All she saw was the last bit of picture dissolving into the clear liquid in the bottom of the caldron.

"Sorry there wasn't any sound." Hermione quietly said. Ginny threw her arms around her and hugged her as tight as she could. Feeling tears of joy and frustration threatening to break through. Hermione was still startled and hadn't hugged her back yet.

"Thanks you. Thank you. Thank you." She kept repeating, her voice slowly breaking off into tears. She started sobbing into Hermione's light sweater and tie, and felt arms come around her holding her close.

"I'm sorry Ginny."

"Don't be sorry. Thank you." She cried again. Trying to pull her closer, needing to feel someone around as the beginnings of a breakdown started to form in the back of her brain. She was just so tired, and so strained, and so lonely. Even with everyone around her, even with everyone in high spirits, she didn't have the one person there that mattered.

"It's okay, Ginny. See, he's fine! And he'll be fine. And you'll see him again soon. And if he ever shows up in the fireplace again I'll wake you up, or find you and bring you there." She hugged her fiercely. "I'm sorry."

"Stop saying you're sorry. You're forgiven." She blubbered and hung onto her friend.

"Are you going to be okay?" Hermione ran a hand up and down her back.

"I'm so tired." She sniffled, and tried to wipe away some tears. "I'm trying really hard not to show it, but I'm miserable."

"Oh. We'll you're a very good actress." Hermione guided her over to her bed and pulled down the comforter.

"You were right, you know." She sniffled and climbed in, all her clothes still on.

"About what?" Hermione wrestled her shoes off, dropping them to the floor.

"I'm never left alone." She wiped her nose against her sleeve, tears still catching on her lashes and then falling down her face. Hermione pulled the covers over her and frowned,

"I just said that to get a rise out of Harry. He's so easily manipulated when it comes to you. I haven't said it, because it was his decision, but I really thought he should have come back to Hogwarts." Hermione looked away from her when she said it, focusing instead on moving her shoes.

"He couldn't come back." She swallowed, and then snuffled. Hermione looked back up. "It just wouldn't be right. He was done Hermione. At least that much we could agree on."

"I guess. I just," and she looked away for a moment, seeming like she was about to cry herself. "I didn't think I would finish this alone. Your brother and Harry were the reason I even stayed my first year. It was their friendship that changed my mind. I thought we'd all graduate together. I just feel lost without them here."

Hermione looked back down, playing with her comforter, and Ginny heard the first tear drop onto the fabric. She quickly sat back up in bed, and pulled her arm, gently. Hermione sat down next to her, and then burst into tears. Ginny felt her own tears pick back up, and gave Hermione a hug across the bed.

"Look at us. Blubbering over those two twits. I'm sure we've never even crossed their minds." Ginny started, half laughing, half crying. "We both came back because we wanted to. We should make the most of it. And if that means being far too popular and having salacious rumors started about us so be it. I'm sick of hiding and being quiet. It would have been twice as bad if those idiots had come back." She pulled back from Hermione, wiped her face, and smiled.

"You're right. No more tears. Let's make the most of it." Hermione sniffled and wiped at her own face.

"Starting this weekend. After my victorious win we're going to Hogsmeade." Ginny grabbed Hermione around the shoulders, giving her a supportive squeeze.

"Yes. And we're going for a drink as well!"

"Hermione!" She laughed.

"And we're making Ron pay!"

"Getting better with every sentence." Ginny encouraged.

* * *

~*~

Author's Notes:

WHAT? Two chapters in one day? Yep. That's how I roll. And because I love you all! Thanks so much for all your continued support for this story and your wonderful reviews and adds.

And thanks to Taylor Swift, her wonderfully girly music put me in the perfect mood to write Ginny's dream sequence. It was dreadful before that! LOL


	22. Chapter 22

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 22~

_Well I stand at the crossroads  
Of highroads and low roads  
And I got a feeling it's right_

_Love Will Come Through – Travis_

* * *

~*~

"Alright, we've done this time and time again. Dean, Pugh, please don't kill a fourth year. Just scare them. Ravenclaw's team is very weak, it's going to be a massacre, so let's be hospitable."

"Right," Dean laughed, and the rest of the team joined in. It would be more like practice than an actual match.

"Let's go!" Ginny yelled out and started walking toward the front.

"Ginny!" Hermione's faint yell echoed in the locker room.

"Go ahead; I'll be there in a few seconds." She called out to the team. Everyone gave a wave of understanding and ambled out onto the field.

"Wait! Wait!" Hermione panted as she jogged up to her.

"What's going on?" Ginny pushed her broom to the crook of her right elbow. "Scouts? Different scouts?"

"No," Hermione took a large breath and put a hand against a locker to steady herself. "He's here."

"Who's here?"

"Harry. Well, and Ron too."

"What? Why did you tell me?" Panic flooded her joints and she grabbed onto her broom to keep herself upright.

"You've been lazy lately, letting the Snitch just float around instead of just ending the game. You're practically gloating about the fact that you have the strongest team." Hermione panted.

"That's the reason you wanted to tell me? Not the fact that I've been waiting to hear from him in over a month?" She snapped, her nerves building to an unbelievable amount. She was past puking now.

"And you've been Blatching a little too hard." Hermione took a final big breath.

"So?" Ginny irritatingly snapped. She could hear the crowd starting to get restless above her.

"It's unbecoming, Ginny."

"It's what the scout wants to see, Hermione."

"Fine, fine. Do what you want. But when you get an earful from Ron and Harry about how lazy you are, and how you were picking on Michael, don't say I didn't warn you."

"Oh Merlin. Oh, Merlin! As if I didn't have enough to worry about already." Ginny hyperventilated a little and turned from Hermione. "Where are you three sitting?" She called over her shoulder.

"Next to Neville." She yelled after her. "Break a leg. Not literally!"

Ginny checked to make sure her trinkets were secure; it gave her a little calm reprieve, and then ran out onto the field. Madam Hooch gave her a disgruntled look and then blew her whistle.

"Took you long enough, Ginny!" Dean yelled out to her.

"Pay attention to the game you twit!" She yelled back and watched as the Snitch took off into the dim sun of the afternoon. The chanting of 'Weasley is Our Queen' rose above the ruckus of the crowd, but she refused to look over. She had to concentrate; she had to make sure that she won this game, quickly, so all this pent up anxiety would dissipate.

Michael floated up next to her, scanning the clouds, both watching the game below and for the Snitch,

"Heard Harry was here today."

"Nervous to Blatch me now? He won't hex you that badly." Ginny didn't even look over, looking into the clouds, and then down below at the drubbing that her team was inflicting upon the young Ravenclaws. "Shame you have such a weak team."

"Best we could come up with, at least we aren't bullies." Michael countered.

"Bullies? Hardly." Ginny smirked at him, and then saw the flash of gold in the center of the field. She took off like lightning toward the darting ball, feeling Michael seconds behind her. She could hear the crowd jump up on their feet, screaming and yelling out to them. She reached out her hand, willing the Snitch to fly into it, and it took off into the sun. With a frustrated grunt she scanned the clouds, and everyone in the stands sat down. A quick look at the scoreboard told her they were already fifty points ahead, they were right on course for the win.

"Wanting to give them a show, eh?" Michael panted, giving her a hard nudge. Ginny shoved an elbow into his side and flew away.

"Looks like things are getting a bit dicey out there between the Seekers." Thompson's voice boomed over the loudspeakers. "And Smithson is able to get one past Seamus Finnigan for Ravenclaw's first goal."

Ginny glanced over at Seamus, cussing up a storm as her team grabbed the Quaffle and started charging down the field again.

"Pay attention!" She yelled out at him, and Seamus nodded and settled back down onto his broom. The crowd gasped as Michael darted off across the field, and Ginny zeroed in on the area he was looking at, but the snitch wasn't there, scare tactic. Michael pulled up fast and then sat around, frowning, upon seeing that Ginny didn't take the bait. A Bludger whizzed by her head and Pugh darted past her. With a loud crack he sent is sailing back toward a tiny looking Ravenclaw Chaser.

"What did I say Pugh?" She yelled out. He nodded in agreement as the Ravenclaw squealed out and then darted past the Bludger. The crowd roared as Dean scored them another ten points, and she shifted on her broom, searching across the field for the flutter.

"Gryffindor now up seventy to ten, in the first match of the season. Things are starting to heat up with the Chasers, Dean Thomas getting a little pushy with Nicholas Smithson. Oh! There it is!" Thompson shouted, and Ginny felt her neck pop she turned her head so fast. Without even willing it to her broom took off to the opposite side of the pitch. The wind was howling in her ears, blurring with the screams and chants from the crowd. Out of the corner of her eye Michael was a streak of black and bronze going full speed as well. The Snitch was hovering in the stands, right above the empty area that the students kept for the scout that kept coming to the practices.

The stands were coming closer, the Snitch was still hovering, the few students around the scout were screaming and running away, and the scout was frozen into his seat. She reached out her hand, her fingers touching the edges of the Snitch, which then hovered a bit before starting a dive. She gauged it, pulled back hard to slow down and then using the little leftover momentum she had leapt off her broom; free flying, as her fist closed in around it. She registered a triumphant shout, and a loud curse from Michael, and fell as a crumpled ball against the bleachers. After the initial grimace of pain wore off her adrenaline coursed through and she struggled up from her spot, her fist in the air.

The crowd exploded with cheers, Thompson was spewing nonsense he was so excited, and Ginny registered Michael, high in the air, having pulled up before he would crash in the stands.

"I don't think we've been introduced." A man's clear voice rang out next to her. "I'm Marcus Allan, and I think you're going to be the next Harpy" He stuck out his hand, and with one fist clenching the still fluttering Snitch, she shook it. The crowd went wild, and she saw some camera's snapping shots.

"Thank you." She yelled over the madness of the crowd.

"Let's get some dinner and discuss this further, here's my card." He pulled out a flashing and moving business card and put it in her hand. "I'll be in touch. Good game!" He yelled and gave her a large pat on the shoulder.

Madam Hooch sounded her whistle and flew over to grab the Snitch out of her hand. Mr. Allan gave Ginny another wave before he started making his way out of the stadium.

"Weasley, I shouldn't have expected any less, but try not to be so destructive next time." Madam Hooch's eyebrows rose toward her hairline and she nodded over toward where she had landed, parts of the bleachers had splintered and broken from her fall.

"Right." She felt the first pang of injury in her left side.

"Are you alright?"

"Bruised, I think."

"Make sure you get checked out with Madam Pomfrey." Madam Hooch decreed and then flew off to collect the rest of the Quidditch kit.

"Ginny!" Hermione's screech was the next noise that assaulted her ears, and she turned to see a flowing stream of brown hair charging toward her. "You did it! I can't believe it! You're on the team!" She grabbed her up into a bear hug, jumping up and down with her. Ginny sucked in a painful breath as Hermione's arm wrapped right around her forming bruise.

"And we won." Ginny coughed.

"Yes," Hermione set her back down. "And you're undefeated! Spectacular catch! Amazing really! How are you not hurt?" She was gleaming, almost vibrating with excitement.

"I am hurt." Ginny grimaced and clenched her side. "But let's not let anyone see that. Don't need word getting back to the scout."

"Oh," Hermione stopped bouncing. "Oh dear, don't grab it. Let's just slowly make it down the stairs."

"How did you get over here so fast?" Ginny hissed out between her teeth.

"I saw you going for the stands and I knew you'd follow it through. You just have that tenacity and fearlessness that makes you the best. And who honestly thought Ravenclaw was going to win?" Hermione laughed. "So I just started running toward the area I saw you going to. It was going to end in spectacular glory, and probably some blood. I came prepared." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a large roll of gauze.

"Thanks," she managed a laugh, and then sighed. As the adrenaline started to leave her the injury was becoming more and more apparent. It felt like cracked ribs, which would take a while to heal. They hit the grass of the pitch and her team came barreling over. The hoisted her above their heads and started chanting,

"Weasley is our Queen!

Weasley is our Queen!

She'll never let the other's win

Weasley is our Queen!"

Each joyful bounce from her teammates caused her side to explode, so she bit her lip to stop the grunt of pain. They jostled her all the way into the locker room, Hermione disappearing as the doors shut behind them and set her down on one of the benches. Ginny gently stuck a hand on her side and smiled as best she could,

"Great work today! Not much else to say, except don't be late for practice tomorrow." The team groaned. "How do you think we'll stay undefeated? We have to keep it up. 4PM, sharp!" She ordered and stepped down from the bench. She bypassed the lockers, bypassed the shower, and shot out the back door as fast as she could, her chest starting to throb from her ribs.

"It would seem we have been usurped, Harry. How quickly our memory fades."

She looked over to see Ron and Harry leaning against the side of the stadium, mostly shadows in the dying light of the afternoon. "At least it's still a Weasley name they're chanting."

"Brilliant catch, Ginny." Harry stepped out of the shadows and smiled. He looked exhausted. Her heart froze in her chest, her eyes washed over him trying to take it all in at once. He started to move toward her when Hermione burst past them and wrapped a protective arm over her shoulders.

"Off we go." She started moving Ginny toward the castle.

"What?" Ron and Harry started chasing after them. "Is she hurt?"

"Yes, but we can't let anyone know that, don't want to scout to catch wind." Hermione kept a quick clip up the slippery grass to the grounds. Ginny felt her chest heave and started panting.

"She flew into the stadium, Hermione. I have a feeling he knows she's hurt." Harry called after them.

"Unless you want a crazed mob coming after the two of you, I suggest you go back to Hogsmeade." Hermione called over her shoulder.

"Slow down." She panted, and stuck her feet firmly into the ground, sinking in the small amount of snow already covering the grass. Hermione wasn't expecting the stop, and her arm jerked Ginny forward. She fell with a thump to the mushy snow, slipping down the small hill and landing in front of Ron and Harry. "Go get Madam Pomfrey."

"Merlin, Ginny! Just how hurt are you?" Ron dropped to his knees.

"Ribs," she panted. "Cracked. Can't walk. Anymore." She gasped for a second and then tried to steady her breathing.

"Well GO Hermione!" Ron shouted. "We can't go up there!"

"Um," Harry's voice broke through. "Hold on. I think I can fix it."

"You're far too tired!" Hermione stepped in front of him. "You'll give her a beak or something. Just stay here." Hermione put up a warning finger, "Remember having to re-grow all the bones in your arm? Think about that before you raise that wand."

"When did you get so mean?" Ron crossed his arms over his chest. Ginny let out a bubble of laughter and then grabbed her side; the three of them together was always entertaining.

"Stay." Hermione commanded and then took off up the hill. Harry sat down on the other side of her and she felt them both looking her over.

"How bad is it?" Ron gave her the once over.

"Been worse." She said through her teeth. "Worth it, though."

"Brilliant." Harry agreed.

"Inspired." Ron supplied. "How did you get Hermione into Quidditch?"

"Stopped shoving it down her throat." Ginny turned her head and smiled at her brother. Her ribs pulsed and she clenched her teeth, and rolled away from the injured side, and groaned against Ron's leg. She felt him put a protective hand on her shoulder.

"Hang in there." He ran a strong hand up and down her arm. "Did you hit your head as well?"

"Mostly side."

She tried to categorize all the throbbing parts of her body, but her chest was overshadowing it all. She rolled back onto her back, and looked over at Harry.

"Hey." He smiled, eyes bloodshot, shoulders slumped with exhaustion. He was thinner, and looked like he was growing a beard. She didn't know if she liked it or not, the fingers on her free hand snaked out and ran across his face.

"Humm…" She trailed off.

"Sorry, there wasn't a lot of time." He smiled and she felt his beard run rough across her hand. It made him look entirely too old.

"I don't like it." She smiled back. Her ribs pinched at the movement and she snapped both hands into place. The pain was increasing, and yet she wasn't blacking out, she realized her body seemed to be going into shock. She recognized it now. Everything was slowing down, things were blurring, and she was feeling incredibly calm.

"Ginny?" Harry's worried voice slowly rumbled next to her, his hand gently wiping across her face made her turn back to look at him. "She's so clammy; I think she's going into shock."

"You're right." She managed, feeling it come out slow and even. The pain in her side was starting to dim, all she could feel now was pressure and an uncomfortable throb. She wanted to close her eyes and just fall asleep, she was so tired. Everything felt like it was moving through honey. The world around her buzzed slowly into silence, and her eyes started to dim out the light, she felt her eyes start to slide shut.

"Ginny don't close your eyes!" Harry snapped at her, but she almost couldn't resist. Then his hands started moving across her and the peacefulness started to turn quickly into annoyance. "Unsnap her pads, Ron." He ordered.

"Harry," he started, but whatever look was shot at him he quickly started to comply. The darkness started to pull a bit in her mind, and then Harry quickly and gently lifted her uniform up from her ribs; the cold air hit her still sweaty skin like knives.

"Stop it." She complained, trying to push his hands away but he held her down.

"They seem broken; it's hard to tell with all the bruising." His cold fingers swept across the throbbing in her side and she hissed slightly as he pushed against it.

"Maybe we should wait. Hermione should be back soon." Ron nervously said over her, pushing some hair out of her face as she tried to close her eyes again.

"Ginny," Harry growled at her. "_Ennervate_!" He shot out and she was suddenly and acutely away of just how much pain she was in. The closing darkness snapped away, her side exploded with a burning stab, and with the adrenaline now gone her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she tried to not throw up from it all.

"Bastard." She seethed at him, but Harry ignored her.

"Ron, pin her to the ground, I'm going to check for bleeding. She can't be moving around this much just in case it punctures her lung or something." He mumbled and she felt his fingers start to poke around the area.

"How do you know all this?" Ron pushed her into the frosty grass.

"We had to learn it. Everyone gets basic first aid training. I had to treat a fractured arm just yesterday." His hands stopped poking at her and then she felt a very cold sensation fall over her burning and throbbing ribs. It was ice cold, so cold that she tried to squirm away.

"Stop." She panted.

"Hold her down." Harry ordered Ron and continued to work. She could hear him murmuring things under his breath, and slowly but surely her ribs started to release their pressure and she could finally start to breath again. The pain was still intense, but not enough to make her want to bang her head on a rock and pass out. The icy magic stopped and she felt Harry's fingers, now warm in comparison, run across her ribs. She still hissed at the contact, you couldn't get rid of that much bruising with a little magic.

"I think they're fixed." He pushed against them again. She winced and tried to move away, Ron held her tight to the grass, and at the top of the hill she heard Hermione's voice,

"Just down the hill here. She said it felt like she might have broken them." Hermione's voice faltered. "Harry, you didn't."

"Potter?" Madam Pomfrey's voice was next, both startled and surprised.

"I know what I'm doing, Hermione." He exhaled; sounding exhausted again, and then pulled her shirt back down. Ron let go, she sat up, and everything started spinning.

"Back down, Miss Weasley. I still have to check you." Madam Pomfrey ordered and she happily obliged.

"There is an awful lot of bruising. She had two broken ribs, one was fractured, nothing too major. I believe I've been able to mend them, and I shot her with a waking charm, she was starting to lose consciousness." Harry tacked off quickly, like he had been doing this sort of thing for months. She felt a bitter laugh bubble in her chest at the truth of her observation. Madam Pomfrey pulled up her shirt to check his work, muttering her own spells and charms under her breath.

"Good work, Potter. You just missed the hairline fracture on the fourth rib. I see they are still giving a solid first aid lesson in Auror training." She pulled something out of her pocket and then rubbed it all along Ginny's ribs. She tried to squirm away again but Madam Pomfrey was too fast for her.

"I'm not that good, but I tried to pay attention. I'm the one getting hurt usually." He nodded his head at Ron and they both grabbed one of her arms, easily lifting her back up to her feet. Madam Pomfrey started to transfigure a stretcher.

"Don't say things like that." She wheezed toward Harry and then looked over at the waiting stretcher. "Can't do that."

"You will get on this stretcher, Miss Weasley." Madam Pomfrey ordered.

"Trust me, I'd love to." She winced as she pulled the card out of her pocket. "But I believe I was just given a tryout for the Holyhead Harpies, and I can't have all the spies at this school reporting to the papers about how injured I am." She pushed the card into Madam Pomfrey's surprised hand and the crowd around her fell silent. Ron was the first one to break it,

"Ginny!" He screamed and rushed toward her, and she took a few stumbling steps back throwing out her hands in defense.

"Ron stop!" Everyone yelled at him and he stopped right before grabbing her.

"I can't believe it! I can't believe it! A professional Quidditch player in our family? Charlie is going to flip his lid!" He hugged her fiercely. Hermione started laughing and pulled him away,

"I told you she was up to something big. We just can't really talk about it here, too many people watching us." Hermione smiled at her and tugged Ron back again as he was about to tackle her with glee. Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat and handed the card back with a small jar,

"Very well. You'd just be kept for observation. But if you start to feel too much pain, other then the aching right now you must come back. You need to keep rubbing this on the bruise to help with the healing. Congratulations." She smiled and started walking back up the hill.

"A Harpy. My sister is a Harpy" Ron yelled out, clapping his hands. "Don't look so glum you sodder!" He lean forward and punched Harry in the shoulder.

"Not glum." Harry shook his head, annoyed, and rubbed his shoulder. "Congrats." He smiled at her, but everyone seemed to pick up on his hesitation. She pocketed the salve from Madam Pomfrey along with her card and grabbed her side to take a breath,

"I still have to meet with the scout. Let's not get too ahead of ourselves." She kept her hand locked there as they all fell into an awkward silence.

"Were we still going out to dinner, Ron?" Hermione was the first to break it. She grabbed Ron's hand and tugged slightly.

"Right. Hog's Head. You two coming?" He pursed his lips, everyone seeming to know the answer. "That's fine, better with two." He tugged on Hermione and they started to move away from them down toward the path to Hogsmeade. "I'll talk to you later, Ginny. You coming home, Harry?"

"Yeah." Harry called out after him, and with another wave they moved quickly away.

"Don't be _too_ excited." She grumbled and started patting around her pockets to make sure her talismans hadn't been lost. "It's not the biggest thing that's ever happened to me or anything." Her fingers wrapped around the vial, the amulet right next to it, and she turned from him and started walking back toward the pitch. She needed to grab all her things, and make sure her broom was secure.

"I _am_ excited for you." He said behind her, slowly following her move toward the locker room. She swung the door open and tried to gauge his face in the building sunset.

"Could have fooled me." She pushed through into the locker room and started stumbling toward her locker. Now that her ribs weren't a threat she realized she'd messed up her leg pretty bad. She reached the locker and banged it open. She flicked her wand and heaved her backpack onto the bench. Looking down she realized she'd shredded up her jersey and with a long sigh started trying to pull it up over her head. She got about halfway and stopped, it was just too painful.

"Damn." She huffed. Instead of trying again she ripped out her street clothes and tossed them to the bench. She had been intending on going to the Hog's Head with Ron and Hermione, it was supposed to be a fun night out. After weeks and weeks of torturous homework, and detentions with Ransach, and the brutal training schedule she'd made her team follow, as well as the emotional rollercoaster she couldn't seem to get off these days, she was in desperate need of some fun. Add into that equation Hermione making Ron buy them all drinks and it was the makings of a story to tell everyone. But they had quickly abandoned her with a moody Harry, it was the furthest place she could go from fun.

She glared at her sweater and jeans, why did their relationship have to be so hard? Why couldn't it be like Ron and Hermione's, effortless and endearing? And what was his problem anyway? He still hadn't said anything, and she fired around ready to start a fight.

"What's your…" she trailed off. He was asleep standing up. Leaning against the lockers, his arms crossed over his chest, and his head resting against his shoulder, he was dead asleep. With a small frown she sighed. She couldn't begrudge him silence when he was too tired to speak.

She flicked her wand to send everything back into her locker, knowing now that her night was shot to hell. There was no salvaging it. She'd have to take him home. Bad things happened to people when they tried to Floo this tired. The last thing he needed was to fall into a closed gate and have the family almost kill him. Then find out it was him and freak out even more.

"Harry." She softly said. He continued to breathe slowly and evenly. She was amazed he was able to stay upright. "Harry." She tried again louder.

"What?" His eyes popped open and he jumped away from the wall, alert but disoriented.

"Let's get you home." She held out her hand.

"I'm sorry, Ginny." He sighed, his body deflating before her.

"What are girlfriends for, eh?" She sighed back and grabbed his hand. She weaved him through the lockers and benches toward the door.

"I'll make this up to you. Hermione was telling me we were all supposed to go out tonight." He continued to rasp at her.

"It's fine." She pushed them through and started down the near twilight lit path to Hogsmeade.

"I've been up for three days straight, and I knew I couldn't miss this game, you've been working so hard. I just wanted to see you fly."

She knew she should have smiled. It was meant to be endearing. But the fact that three days ago he had checked himself out of the hospital after nearly dying only annoyed her. So not only had he had a brush with death, but then continued to push his luck by staying awake for three days. It seemed as if his confession was meant to be a pacifier. As if because of his arrival everything that had transpired this week was going to be brushed over. But she had plenty to say about what had happened this week.

"Thanks. I appreciate it. I know how busy you are."

She dropped his hand to try and keep her temper in check. They crunched across the grounds, making it past the gate and down into Hogsmeade. He stopped for a moment as she continued to hobble along, and then she heard his boots quickly move across the gravel. He'd picked up on her mood change.

"I just hope you don't think I'm too busy for you. I mean, we're both busy, but I want to be a part of everything going on." His voice croaked out with urgency behind his words, and her temper simmered over the edges of her control.

"That's all you have to say to me? After what happened this week? That you want to be a part of everything? It's a little too late for that!" She turned on him, feeling her anger flood over any pain she was experiencing. "You can't be a part of anything if you aren't here Harry!"

"I…what?" He blinked hard, shifting his weight back and forth.

"Like it even matters." She muttered to herself and then looked into his face. "Like you're not about to tell me you're leaving again. When should I next expect Kreacher?" She started walking away from him towards Hogsmeade. The path was barely lit now, the sunset long gone. She feared tripping over something and breaking her ribs all over again, but she continued to take furious step after furious step.

"Wait a second!" He yelled and then caught up with her. He quickly darted around, a shadow in the low light and put both hands on her shoulders to stop her progress. "Why are you so bloody angry?"

Her heart started hammering against her ribs, she tried to take a breath to slow it but it made her chest explode with pain from the bruises. She held her side and sucked in a short breath through her nose, looking up at him in the darkness.

"Because you almost died! You almost died, Harry! And you promised me you wouldn't do anything stupid. Anything recklessly stupid. And now you come here, thinking that showing up at my game is going to make everything better?" She snapped her hand to her side, forcing a breath through her teeth.

"It wasn't that serious." He lowly started. "I was hardly close to death, mostly just beat up a bit."

Justifying it, even when his own house elf thought he was horribly injured. Her anger twisted into a hard knot in her stomach, and she looked down at their feet. She was starting to think that this was the beginning of a pattern with them, her uncontrolled anger and his justifications. It made her feel weary and panicked all at the same time. If he couldn't stop, and she couldn't come to see him when he was jumping in front of curses, than all the things he had told Hermione, the entire secret conversation they thought they were having led nowhere. He couldn't give up fighting evil, and fighting evil did not make for a normal life.

Her heart ached a bit in her chest and she took another labored breath. Harry was shifting back and forth in front of her, still anxiously silent. She looked back up. Somewhere deep in her chest, hidden in a place that she would never let anyone see, she desperately wanted him to stop. In the worst way she did. It felt entirely too selfish, childish, and needy. But it made her wonder if it was such a horrible thing to ask of him. If what he wanted out of his life was her, then why continue to torment them both with these extremely close calls, and no contact? The question bubbled up to her lips before she could stop it.

"Do you still want me?"

"How can you ask that?" He sounded wounded, like she'd stabbed him.

"Do you still want me?" She repeated trying to ignore the way her entire body winced at his response.

"After everything that's happened, after everything I told you…I showed you…how could you say something like that?" He dropped his hands and took a step back.

"Then why couldn't I come to the hospital, Harry?" She felt her voice crack, their conversation echoing out into the empty woods. "Why do you keep shoving me out?"

"I'm not doing anything like that." He snapped.

"Answer the question." She panted and felt the pain in her side mix with the twisting of her gut. "If you're going to continue to mangle yourself, why can't I take care of you too? Why can you only take care of me? Why can't this be a partnership?"

"It is, Ginny. We're both working to finish all this up so we can be together." He argued back.

"Answer the question, Harry!" She moaned and bent over, pressing her fist into her ribs. She clenched her teeth and sucked in a painful breath between them. Breathy and fast it started to fall from her lips, "Is it too scary for me? Do you still look at me and seen that broken girl at the bottom of the Chamber? Do you look at me and see this summer and how it went horribly wrong? Do you think I can't understand it, or bare it, or endure it? It was just fucking bones and burns. Why do you always keep me just far enough away?"

"Ginny, Ginny, Ginny," he rushed at her and pulled her tight against his coat almost lifting her off the ground. "I didn't want anyone to see that."

Against the raging temper still bubbling inside, against the part of her mind that screamed that she was still far too mad to feel it, she melted against him. The anxiety, the pain, the misery that followed her around every day burst apart as his arms continued to press her as close as he could. As if a great weight lifted off her chest she felt like she could finally breath again, and her heart and the space around it filled with a melting sort of joy that made her feel the edge of hysteria. It was almost the exact feeling she'd had in the common room all those years ago, like seeing him sitting at her kitchen table at the beginning of every summer, or seeing Hogwarts rise up from the mountains after the long break, or like how her Mum's scones smelled…Home. He felt like home, and her heart had been homesick for him.

"I was not myself." He whispered into her hair. "I have never actually been in that much pain before. And I have known pain. It was horrible, and it took hours for them to fix it all. I fought the sleeping draught long enough to call Kreacher for you."

"I still wanted to be there. I want to help you too." She told his pea coat, breathing in the scent of it: fireplaces, floo, damp wool, and lavender detergent. "You should have stayed at the hospital."

"Their son was missing. He had managed to slip off. That's why I fell. I saw him, in the forest, I lost my balance. I had to get him." He started kissing the top of her head.

"Did you?"

"Yesterday." He stilled. "We found the body."

"Oh, Harry." She wrapped a single arm around his coat, the other still pushing a fist into her side. "It wasn't your fault."

"I know. I know it wasn't." He lowly said and then rested his chin on top of her head. She didn't believe him because it sounded like he didn't even believe himself. She wanted to continue talking about it, she wanted to know everything he was feeling, but he wasn't even breathing, his muscles tensing up. Now was not the time.

"Did you try your best?" She gently asked.

"I almost died doing it." It rumbled in his chest.

"Then that's all anyone can ask of you." She pressed herself closer, the thickets of snow across the grounds made the wind feel like ice across her body. Without even a shudder to alert him he quickly pulled away and then opened his jacket to pull her in again. Her aching side, her whole aching body at this point, relaxed against the added body heat and warming charm he'd put on the coat.

"I'm leaving again on Monday. We're going to be gone for most of the month. Hopefully back before your break. I don't know if you remember, but I remember promising you I'd see you before Christmas."

"I remembered." She pressed her face against his jumper his heart thumping slowly and strongly.

"But you didn't believe me?" He kissed the crown of her head.

"I wanted to." She winced as her side pinched with pain. It seemed to snap him out of whatever fog had created the incredibly close and private moment they were having.

"We should get going." He slipped out of his jacket and slung it over her shoulders, making sure to button the top two to keep it on. With his hands still on her shoulders she looked up in the moonlight and saw him blink slowly a few times and then blow out a long breath. The coat momentarily made the pain in her side ease and with a tiny nod they started walking again. He stumbled a little as the gravel turned to stone, revealing just how tired he probably was. She tugged them toward the back alleys and shadowy side of Hogsmeade making her way toward George's shop.

George had flooed over from Diagon Alley so that Ron could come watch the game. Or to go drinking, she wasn't entirely sure. She hoped he was still in. They stopped at the back door, stacks and stacks of empty crates lined up against the walls and she banged on the door as hard as she could. When she was done her side pinched again and she leaned forward letting her forehead touch the cool metal of the frame. Harry's firm hand ran down her back,

"How are you feeling?"

"Bad. I'll be fine once we get you home." She sighed and banged on the door again. She heard some rustling and tried to stand back up. George cracked open the door and appraised them before saying anything.

"Let me guess." He crossed his arms over his atrocious magenta robe and cocked his head to the side. "Harry was attacked by fangirls, and when Ginny tried to fight back they attacked her as well."

"Not even close." Ginny smiled at him. "It was a flock of Hippogriff's, and they thought I looked like a tasty ferret. Let us in would you?"

"Sneaking around back alleys, looking like you've just come out the loser in a fight. You both are a horrible sight to see. You should be glad that I'm in a benevolent mood." George cracked them a smile and opened the door wider to let them in.

"Thanks, Mum. And while you're at it, can you please reprimand Ron and Hermione for leaving us to the wolves when you get a chance. The two most injured people out of the lot and they just take off for Hogsmeade." She grumbled and yanked Harry inside with her. She made a beeline for the fireplace, Harry in tow. He was swaying on his feet.

"Will do. I might even send a Howler to them later. But," George's eyes twinkled a bit. "That might startle Harry if I do that."

"Gross." She gave him a look of mock horror then threw a handful of Floo into the fireplace. "3 Tower Street, Diagon Alley."

"You'll owe me for this one, Ginny." He waggled his finger at her.

"I owe you more then I could ever repay darling brother of mine." She gave him a little bow and then tugged them both into the fireplace. It sent them shooting up into the network before George could get in a retort.

They landed with a thud. Any willpower that Harry had been holding onto dissolved once he knew he was in his house. He slid to the ashy hearth and leaned against the mantel.

"Leave me." He said and closed his eyes. She rolled her own, her side throbbing now, Floo had been a bad idea it bounced her around too much. She flicked her wand at him,

"_Mobilicorpus_."

Harry didn't even resist, she floated him toward his room, and deposited him down on the floor.

"Come on, stand up. I won't let you get soot all over your bed." She tried to use her Mum voice and he let out a giant groan. His eyes were still closed, and he just held his arms out. "You are impossible!" She hit him with a cleaning charm, the soot disappearing. "Aren't you going to change?"

"I don't care."

"Boys." She grumbled and unzipped his black jacket with a black jumper underneath. She grabbed the bottom of the jumper, as well as the shirt underneath and pulled both up over his head in one movement. Being tired herself she'd forgotten all about his glasses, they were such a part of him, and they went clattering to the floor with his shirt. She was about to reach down and grab them when she sucked in a startled breath,

"Harry!"

He was covered in bruises. They wrapped in thick bands around his torso, with smatterings of yellow and reddish ones healing where the ugly purple and blue weren't covering. She turned him around in her hands and let out a distressed moan, there was a long healing scar across his back which was highlighted by the now white scars he'd gotten from the Gringotts vault.

"Was all this before or after the tumbled down the mountain?" She ran her fingers along the pink scar, it was getting close to closing and fading to white with the rest of them. "Or is this just so common place you don't keep track anymore?"

"I fight Death Eaters, Ginny. What did you expect?" He half grumbled half mumbled. His eyes were still closed when she turned him back around. Her hands were fumbling she was so upset. She managed to control them long enough to undo his black belt on his black trousers not even registering what she was doing. Harry did the rest and fell onto his bed with a moan of happiness. His trousers were hanging around his shoes and he kicked them off, now down to just his boxers and black socks. Red and white striped boxers, her hands started shaking again, but for an entirely different reason. Her stomach churned and deep down, despite the fear and the anger she had about his injuries, despite her own ancient feeling of weary pain, all she wanted was to crawl into that bed and fall asleep with him. Not even do anything, just sleep. She always slept better when he was around, and she was so tired.

"Good night." She quickly backed out of the room as Harry sat up on the bed.

"Are you leaving?" His garbled voice called after her as she moved into the living room. She couldn't answer; she didn't know what to say. She wanted to stay, more then anything in the world she wanted to stay. But there was the issue of Ron, and her Saturday class, and the fact that she shouldn't be here with a naked Harry. Her mind swam and she leaned against the table, halfway between his room and the fireplace.

"Come on, don't leave, Ginny." She was surprised he was able to make it over to her, he had seemed like he was seconds from passing out before.

"I think I have to." She unbuttoned his jacket.

"Are you still mad at me? Are we still fighting?" He pulled it from her hands and tossed it at the table.

"I don't know. I'm too tired." She bowed slightly to alleviate some of the pain in her side.

"Me too. But I want you to stay. Can't you just spend the night?"

"You know what happened last time. I can't lose my title, Harry. I have to stay Captain or everything is going to fall apart." She leaned all her weight against the table and grabbed her side, her breath starting to pain her; she really needed to lie down.

"Okay, okay. I have a plan." He stumbled toward the kitchen, slipping in his socks, looking both haggard and adorably clumsy. He went slapping around, completely blind without his glasses, and landed on some parchment and quills in a drawer. He quickly scribbled down something and with another slipping step grabbed her arm and gently tugged her back toward his room. With one quick slap he tacked a note to his door and continued to tug her in. In the sloppiest writing she'd ever seen she made out:

_Hermione_

_Bring Ginny home with you._

_Tonight._

_Harry_

"Problem solved." He smiled and shut his door. His room was dark now, just shadows and dim moonlight.

"How do you know she's even coming here?" She stayed by the door as he stumbled for the bed.

"I know my best friends. They'll come." He groaned and she heard his bed creak as he fell across it. "Big enough to share…" he teased her.

"I don't know, Harry." She put her hand on the doorknob. Her mind was telling her to go; her body was pulling her toward the bed. She missed him, but being late again would be the final straw with McGonagall, and there was the problem of her ribs. She thought she might never wake up again if she made it onto the bed. All her thoughts were scattered and fleeting, she didn't know if she should be angry or relieved, happy or upset. In the darkness she saw him sit on the edge of the bed.

"Please."

It was the way he said it, not the word. Like so many other times in their short relationship his words held little meaning next to the gravity of the feelings behind them. It was pleading and panic, desperation and sadness all at the same time. She let go of the doorknob, and he forced himself back up from the bed.

"I can't stay the whole night." She tossed her warm-up to the ground.

"I know." He peeled the ruined jersey off.

"Hermione has to take me back." She struggled out of her shoes without bending down.

"She will." He grabbed a dress shirt out of his dresser.

"Because I can't lose this, Harry." He draped it over her shoulders and she pushed her arms through.

"You won't." He buttoned up the shirt and then reached up and gently pulled out her hair thing. Her messy, knotted hair fell around her shoulders.

"I have to graduate. I have to play for the Harpies. It's what I want to do with my life." She looked up at him in the moonlight, his hands fumbling with the button on her trousers. She grabbed them and waited for him to meet her eyes.

Since her announcement of it she had gotten the distinct feeling that Harry was avoiding the topic. She didn't have the energy to figure out why, but she needed to know that he at least understood how important this was to her. His bloodshot green looked across her face, and he swallowed hard. A tight knot of anxiety started to fill her chest.

"If that's what you want, then you'll be brilliant."

"Why are you saying that?" She cautiously asked. His jaw clenched and he looked away for a moment.

"It's just," he frowned. "It seems like no one wants us to be together but us. Like the universe is taunting me, like I can never be happy. Right when all this training will be done and I can see you every day if I wanted to, you'll be gone."

"What are you saying, Harry?" She dropped his hands.

"Nothing. I'm not saying anything." He took a step back.

"You don't want me to take it?"

"No." He quickly and firmly answered. "I want you to be happy, Ginny. No matter what that means to me. That's what I'm saying." He sat down on his bed and rubbed his face with his hands.

"But what about your happiness? What about what you want?" She stepped toward him. "I heard your conversation with Hermione, in the fireplace."

"Great." He sighed and looked up at her. "The only reason I wouldn't want you to hear all that is because I don't want you to feel pressured, Ginny. You are what I want, and you are what makes me happy. But, if you're not happy then there is no point. I don't want you to resent me or grow to hate me because you stuck around despite what you wanted out of your life. All I want is for you to be happy."

"But I am happy." The words sounded false even to her. "Okay. I'm not happy right now. This is stressful." She waved her hands in the space between them. "But it's not going to be like this forever. If you're willing to put in the work, then I am too."

"Are you, though?" He gave her a sad smile. "It's going to be a lot of work. Are you sure you might not want to be with someone who is easier?"

"No." She was absolutely certain about that fact. "No, Harry. It's you. We just seem to have bad timing right now."

He grabbed the edge of his button up shirt and pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms around her hips, and then resting his head against her stomach. His whole body relaxed, and she felt the anxious edge of her thoughts, the only thing keeping her upright at this point, melt away the longer he held her. After what felt like a long time he let go and she kicked off her shoes. She still had her splinter filled trousers on, but she didn't care anymore.

He helped her into the bed, pulled the covers over them, and slung an arm low on her waist, remembering to miss her ribs. As his fingers curled on her hip, pulling her closer and closer, her eyes dropped, her breathing slowed, and she heard him whisper,

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

* * *

~*~

It was cruel. Despite the bottomless exhaustion she heard them stumbling drunk and giggling as they made their way through the apartment. Her eyes snapped open and she clenched her teeth together.

"Ron." Hermione laughed, she heard jostling and then kissing.

"Come on, love." Her brother pleaded, it sounded like they were in the living room. Harry was snoring, his arms and legs wrapped around everything but her injured side, as if even his sleeping mind remembered not to hurt her. His beard was rubbing the skin raw on her shoulder, where his ridiculously large button up shirt had fallen away. She waited.

"What's this?" Hermione stopped at the door. She couldn't help but smile, Harry did know them both too well. "Oh lord."

"She's in there?" Ron's voice lost all the playfulness it'd held before.

"Calm down." Hermione groaned.

"He better be on the floor. I wasn't kidding, I'll strangle him." Ron fumed, she heard the doorknob turn, and then Hermione snapped,

"You will stay out of this. That's what you'll do. This isn't your business."

"She's my sister, it's my business."

"Oh, go vent off to your brothers. That doesn't work with me." Someone touched the doorknob again. "Put your wand away and calm down. I'll go check on them."

Ron's voice dropped to a disgruntled tone and slowly faded away with his grumbling curses. The door opened and light spilled across the floor, backlighting Hermione in the doorway.

"Ginny?" She whispered.

"Yeah?" Ginny answered back. No point in whispering, Harry was dead to the world.

"Let's get going." Hermione stepped in and the light by the bed went on. Harry continued to snore, and she could make out Ron's silhouette in his own doorway watching them.

"I need help, I can't move." She huffed and pushed Harry's arm off her chest. She pushed his leg off next, he continued to snore. Hermione came around to her side of the bed and pulled the comforter back.

"Your ribs?" She quietly asked and then offered a hand to pull her across the bed. Ginny nodded and tried her best to move without screaming. Awkwardly and slowly she finally made it to her feet and wanted to cry. She was in so much pain, and she was so tired, and now she was even more distraught about what was going to happen between her and Harry, and yet there was nothing she could do about it tonight. She had a class in hours, homework to do, and another long thirty days without him. She wanted to wake him up.

"It's okay, Ginny. We have time. Just move at your own pace." Hermione's grip on her arm was tight and steady. They shuffled across the end of the bed and into the low light next to Harry's side. Her eyes caught on the very top of the scar on his back, and she let go of Hermione just long enough to pull back the covers and reveal all the horrible bruising and scaring.

"Oh my." Hermione gasped. Ron's footsteps were next in the room, but he remained silent. Ginny turned on him,

"This is what you want? This is the life you want? Bruised and beaten, too tired to see your girlfriend? You should stay with George, Ron. I wouldn't wish this on Hermione any day." She bit her lip to stop the flood of tears that threatened to come out. Hermione covered him back up, Harry still fast asleep, she leaned against the bed and grabbed her ribs again, the tears starting to fall from her eyes.

"Hey, hey, don't cry." Ron was the one that comforted her this time. "We've seen him more beat up than that. He'll be fine." He grabbed her around her waist and half guided, half carried her to the living room. She could hold back the sobs, but the exhaustion made the tears continue to fall onto the oversized white shirt. He set her down on the sofa and her ribs pulsed with pain again.

"I need to go to the hospital." She managed through her tears.

"Ginny?" They both asked surprised.

"I'm just in too much pain." Her voice hitched. "I can't do this, Hermione. It's too much, it's just too much." She couldn't even cry. Each breath felt like someone was stabbing her. Ron jumped up from the couch and ran for the bathroom. In a flash he pushed a bottle of pain medication into her hands.

"It's not the same strength as the ones you got in the hospital, but it will work." He uncapped it. "You have eaten something, right?"

She didn't answer she just tipped it back. It hit her blood stream instantaneously because of her empty stomach, she felt the pain lessen, and her nausea increase. She let the bottle fall from her hand onto the couch.

"No."

"Ginny." Hermione scolded her. She leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes. "Ron go make her some food. Anything, we have to get something into her stomach."

"Right, there might be something here." His feet bounded off toward the kitchen, she felt Hermione sit on the coffee table opposite her.

"Ginny, I am going to take you to Madam Pomfrey when we get back to school. I know that's not what you want to do, but if you really are in too much pain then you need to rest." She put a cold hand on her knee.

"Fine." She sighed and clamped down on her ribs again. She felt the tears build, but held them back. She would be in the infirmary for at least three days if not a week. Maybe Harry had been right; maybe it didn't matter if people found out she had been hurt. She _had_ busted up two rows of bleachers. Her ribs pulsed, her stomach lurched, and Ron appeared with a sandwich.

In a very brotherly show of affection he shoved it directly into her mouth and started moving her jaw for her. She tried slapping him away, Ron continued to 'assist' her chewing, Hermione was fretting over the two of them, and then a very confused and groggy voice called out,

"What the hell is going on?"

"Put on a damn shirt, Harry!" Ron yelled out, still moving her jaw. She whipped out her wand and shot out a stinger at Ron to stop him, sandwich pieces went flying all over their new couch, Ron fell against her as Hermione tumbled to her side, spreading across the coffee table and knocking over the newspapers and magazines.

"What time is it?" Harry called over the commotion.

Ron jumped back up from the floor onto the couch and put a hand on her shoulder to keep her down.

"Get off, Ron!" She yelled. Hermione managed to get up from the table as well.

"Ginny? You're still here?" Harry's voice carried over the couches and she heard him start moving.

Then the fireplace exploded with green flames and everyone turned to see who it would be this late at night,

"Um…sorry to interrupt. But you two need to get back."

It happened instantaneously. Just as suddenly as Neville had appeared in the fireplace he was on the ground, wrapped up in a thick white rope, going red in the face, and frozen solid. For a panicked moment she looked around the apartment for the attacker and then noticed Harry's chest rising and falling in rapid motion with his wand sticking out straight, and unshakingly, in front of him. She had never been more confused or terrified of him in that moment.

One quick look at Ron and Hermione confirmed her rising panic, they looked just as startled and scared. Harry took a few steps toward the fireplace looking positively dangerous, his eyes a frightening dark green, his hands balled as fists at his side. Even just wearing pyjama pants didn't seem to off set the sheer amount of anger that was pulsing from him. As if on cue the clock started gonging in the kitchen as everyone continued to stand perfectly still.

"How did you get in here, Neville?" He snarled and took two more steps toward the still incapacitated Neville.

"Harry." Ginny breathed, snapping out of it and struggling off the couch to get to him. He ignored her, advancing on him and with a wordless flick of Harry's wand Neville took a large breath and looked up wide eye at Harry.

"How? Tell me, because I would never give you the password."

"Harry," Ginny grabbed his arm, afraid of where this seemed to be quickly escalating toward. "I did."

With another wordless flick of his wand the ropes disappeared and Neville lay gasping and sheet white on the floor. Harry set one final seething glare at him and lowly ordered,

"Get out of my house. Now."

Harry's eyes snapped to her for a moment and then he nodded and quickly moved back to his room. Hermione let out a giant breath, like she'd been holding it, and both Hermione and Ron looked at her wide-eyed. She turned toward them,

"You were all there! After the Quidditch game, Felicity Dagwood? We were being bombarded! It was your idea Ron!"

"I know," Ron nodded, but he was still scared it seemed. Neville was slowly regaining his color back, the clock finished gonging and Ron turned to Hermione,

"Wordlessly?"

"Apparently so." Hermione swallowed.

"What?" Ginny snapped eyeing Neville as he moved to stand.

"He did all that wordlessly. That's bloody terrifying!" Ron stage whispered to everyone. Something exploded in Harry's room and everyone flinched. Taking a big breath Ginny turned to Hermione,

"How much time?"

"Maybe ten minutes at most. I didn't realize how late it was." She pushed her hair back from her face and started looking around the apartment for her things.

"Neville," she turned to him. "Go back and make sure we're clear. Hermione and I will be there in two minutes."

"I'm sorry. I was just thinking…" Neville started but she cut over him.

"You weren't! That was incredibly stupid. You fucked up, Neville. Go." She grabbed her side and shifted the giant white shirt again on her body and moved toward the closed door. For a moment she feared it might be locked, Harry did have a flare for dramatics at times, but it opened under her hand. Ron and Hermione were still slightly stunned by the whole exchange, silently cleaning up the living room, but she swung open the door and slammed it shut.

"Was that really necessary?"

"You're going to be late." He stopped his pacing and picked up her clothes off the floor.

"Don't you dare deflect this!" She ripped the jersey out of his hand, and balled it up in her fist.

"Nothing to deflect or fight about." He coldly said and handed over her warm up next. It hung between them and she stared at it.

"Isn't there?"

"Should there be?" Harry challenged. "What is he doing here, Ginny? Why would you do that?"

"It was Ron!" She snapped. "It was his idea to hide out here after the Quidditch game. We were being bombarded by reporters!"

"And no one told me this?" He ground out.

"You. Weren't. Here." She punctuated every single word.

"It doesn't matter." He fumed right back. "I don't want him here. Now I have to change the password."

"Sorry to inconvenience you." She flippantly responded. "But it was the first thing we thought of."

"I don't like it Ginny. I can't control whatever is going on at Hogwarts, but _here_ I can."

"Control what? Me?" She shouted.

"No, of course not!" He waved it off like her assumption annoyed him. "Him!"

"Harry James Potter" she lowly started, "I don't know what to be more furious about, your temper or your lack of control."

He blew out a dismissive breath of air and shook her warm up violently. Her vial fell out onto the floor. His eyes broke contact just for a moment to glance at it, and before she could blink it was floating up into his hand. "What is this?"

"Brighton Beach." She clenched her teeth, both from anger and fighting against the stabbing in her ribs. The warm up fell limply to his side. "I told you, Harry. I'm ready to work at this if you are. It has been nothing but difficult but I'm still here. So you need to decide. I'm not quite sure why you continue to think Neville is... whatever warped thing you think he is, but he is not. It's not like that. _I'm not like that_." She stopped and grabbed her side. "And your trust is what _I_ want."

"You have it." He looked up at her, his eyes slowly morphing back to bloodshot, exhausted, regular green. She lifted an eyebrow at him. "You do. You have it. I just…you're everything to me Ginny. I don't like to share. And I don't know if you feel this same kind of life changing feeling that I have for you. You're just as difficult to read as I am. So it makes me anxious and angry sometimes. But I'm here as long as you want me."

"I always want you." She deflated with some relief. Maybe it was the events of the day, maybe it was the events of the evening, maybe it was the pain medication, but she always seemed to let her guard down with him and say the stupid things she should have kept to herself. The smile that lit across his face made her heart flutter for a moment.

She felt the blush ignite right around her neck and quickly turn her as red as her hair. She grabbed the warm up out of his hand and held the two destroyed shirts in her free hand. There was no point in putting her jersey back on, it'd have to be replaced or repaired by the house elves.

"This night was such a disaster." He sighed and moved up against her to drop the vial into her pocket. "I just wanted to surprise you, and it went wrong at every point."

"I know," she pulled at his oversized shirt. "You haven't even kissed me, and now I have to leave." She wrapped her hand around the vial and amulet, now a force of habit, and then grabbed her side.

"Ginny, we have to go!" Hermione called out from the living room. She looked at Harry for another moment, he was studying her, like he used to so long ago.

"Why do you want to memorize this moment?" She quietly asked.

"Because you've never looked more beautiful then right now." He closed the gap between them and softly and gently pulled her into his kiss.

She had always been a rough and tumble kind of girl, enjoying those heated and crazed moments of passion. Harry was full of those; most of their relationship had been that. That wonderful moment where you just can't hold back any longer and all your passion just explodes out of you. That she was familiar with. But never, in all her short experience, had she ever been kissed like this. Love. It was nothing but pure love pouring from him, holding her like she might disappear if he wasn't wrapped around her, kissing her slowly like he needed it to last, making the entire world stop just for them. Needless to say, when he did pull away, she stood there like a dummy completely come undone.

"Ginny!" Hermione's worried voice called out again. But she continued to hang around in the space between them, so close his beard was starting to tickle her face, it made her smile.

"I'll see you as soon as I can." He whispered against her mouth and she kissed him again. "Try to be safe."

"Same to you." She smiled against his lips and met them again. She started to melt, time ceased to matter, his fingers tangled in her hair, their breath started to mingle and build in between the soft kisses, her stomach pulsed with a throb, and the door swung open.

"Ginny, now!" Hermione commanded not even swayed but what she had walked in on.

"Fine, fine." Harry grumbled and pulled her into a light hug. She made sure to miss his injuries as well and hugged him back. Hermione continued to stay in the doorway, her arms crossed. "Good luck. See you at Christmas."

"Bye." She told his chest and then turned and walked away before her body could convince her to stay. With a handful of Floo powder they were off to the Hog's Head, and Hermione, true to her word, marched her straight up to Madam Pomfrey.

* * *

~*~

She started to stir, the quiet of the infirmary made it impossible to tell what time of day it was. Probably somewhere in the late afternoon, or it could be evening, she wasn't sure. After Hermione had dropped her off Madam Pomfrey had all but strapped her down to the cot and informed all her teachers that she would need at least three to five days to recover, as predicted. Her fighting, and walking, talking, and Flooing, sleeping and general behavior had caused the barely healed ribs to crack again. This time she was going to be forced to heal correctly, and that demanded 24 hour bed rest. Someone scribbled something down right next to her and she cracked open an eye.

"Oh, it's you." She croaked and started to sit up, her side pulsing with protest.

"Nice to see Harry still has those Snitch pyjama bottoms." Neville forced a laugh. "Some things never change."

"What in bloody hell were you thinking?" She groaned at him.

"I wasn't. Ginny I'm so sorry. You weren't back yet, and you're already on thin ice. No one could find you…I just thought…" He hung his head. "I'm sorry."

"I thought Harry was going to kill you." She gave him a long look.

"So did I. I would have deserved it. I was so rude, coming unannounced like that. I'm so sorry. Tell him I'm sorry, please."

"It's a little too late for that." She grimaced as she adjusted a little on the bed. "Please just believe that I'm well aware of the whole Ransach/Harpy situation. Harry already had Hermione taking me back in time. I didn't _need_ you, Neville."

He quickly looked down at the floor and took a quick breath.

"Hermione would string me up if I hadn't brought your homework. So I'm just going to set it right next to you." He heaved the stack on her table, making her water glass almost knock over due to the sheer weight.

"You shouldn't have." She groaned and grabbed her side. He was still refusing to make eye contact, instead counting the tiles on the floor. She could see his lips moving silently and felt a pang of companionship from last year. Every night, when they would all flee back to the common room, Neville would take a spin around the room silently counting heads. Strategy and relief for him all at the same time. Once he'd make his round he'd always finish with her and put a warm hand on her shoulder.

On the nights, most nights, that were hard it always gave her a small moment of calm amidst the chaos around them. It was these little things that she remembered from last year that always made her regret, at least for a little bit, her anger. He _had_ apologized. Things _had_ been patched up with her and Harry, for now. She turned to him,

"So what's the word in the rumor mills?"

"Still buzzing about the game, people are speculating which team you'll sign with. A few of us older students want to know what you and Hermione were up to on Friday, and where you got that enormous sheet of a shirt she drug you back into Hogwarts with." He stopped to laugh at that. "And of course the regular gossip."

"Ever find out who Seamus was dating in Ravenclaw?" She cracked a smile, and he shook his head.

"I don't suppose you're not secretly pregnant and that's why you're here." Neville stood up awaiting her answer. She lifted up her shirt to show a sliver of skin, he let out a small string of profanity; she lowered the shirt back down, and said,

"Nope, think it might be my ribs that broke apart the stands."

"Ginny." He whispered and pressed his lips together.

"Neville." She sighed back at him. "Don't be so melodramatic."

"Ginny, don't be such a twit." He sassed her back. "Are you sure you're going to be alright. That looks really, really bad."

"Why'd you have to say that?" She moaned and glanced at the windows letting out late afternoon sun. "I was blocking it out so well before." Her fingers lightly pressed against the enormous patch of bruised ribs. After all the breaks had healed completely this second time around, even more bruising had started. She couldn't even wear a bra because it would hit all over the bruising that started right under her breast, then down to the bottom of her ribcage, wrapping around from front to black. They were ugly, deep purple and blue bruises; sometimes her shirt would hit it the wrong way and make her wince with pain.

Neville had continued to watch over her in the silence she had created. Out of the corner of her eye she could see his upset face, complete with a frown and head shaking.

"I have plenty of mother figures in my life; can't you tell me how cool I looked when I slammed into the scout?" She grumbled.

"Oh it was magnificent. I'd dare say the best ending to a Quidditch game I've ever seen. There was wood flying everywhere, students screaming and running away, Corner cursing your name up and down, and those few moments were you were actually flying through the air without a broom, amazing. It was fantastic." Neville listed off in a controlled voice. "But, when you actually know the person that got their body all broken up for a stupid Snitch it makes the moment a little unsettling."

"I can't think of a better reason to sacrifice my body." She harrumphed him.

"Ah, well, you always were the reckless type. Maybe that's why Harry likes you so much." He shook his head like it was a silly reason.

"Reckless," she scolded him. "He's the reckless one! You saw how he looked. If he wasn't already beaten up I would have done it myself."

"I would love to see you try, Ginny." Neville laughed.

"I'm wiry!" She protested.

"The patient needs to rest. You need to leave Mr. Longbottom." Madam Pomfrey appeared out of thin air and started pushing him toward the door.

"Sorry, I almost forgot." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small purple jar. He handed it to Madam Pomfrey. "I made it myself."

"Thank you." She smiled but continued to usher him toward the door.

"It will help with the bruising, Ginny! See you soon!" He called over Madam Pomfrey's shoulder and was unceremoniously tossed out into the hallway.

"Dinner will be served soon Miss Weasley. I believe Miss Granger will be up later on to help you with your homework. Are you in pain?" She floated over and started pulling and fluffing her sheets and pillows.

"Yes." She relaxed back onto the pillows. "I was hoping they'd just let me slide on all the work for this week."

"Spoken like a true Gryffindor." Madam Pomfrey smiled and held out the pain potion.

* * *

~*~

Author's Note: Incredible thanks going out to TOW Gunner on this one! 'Willfully dense'...LOL!


	23. Chapter 23

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 23~

_He won't love you  
Like I love you  
He won't care for you this way  
He'll mistreat you if you stay_

_When We Dance - Sting_

* * *

~*~

Hiding out in the infirmary did little to quench the fires of rumor that continued to swirl around the castle. She could hear the herd of whispering girls pausing and trying to peek into the cracks of the doors. Hermione refused to tell her anything, and the boys just laughed and gave her something to distract away from it all. There was always plenty of revision, plenty of sweets, and lots of newspapers and articles to read. The trials were increasing, the captures were getting more and more daring, and Harry's face was always plastered along with them. Roping off a Death Eater here, stunning another one there, up and down the British Isles. As soon as they were caught they were scheduled for trial. It was impressive, it was worthy of hero worship, and it just made her feel ill every time.

"I'm sure they are huffing it up, Ginny. Don't worry so much." Hermione drawled over her homework on Friday evening. She had spent her mandatory week in solitary confinement to promote healing for all her bruises; Madam Pomfrey was going to release her tomorrow.

"Like you wouldn't be doing the same thing if it were Ron."

"Ron wouldn't be doing half the stupid…sorry. I mean Ron isn't as daring as Harry." Hermione corrected, turning slightly pink.

"He is stupid. Don't kid yourself." She grumbled and finished off her own Potion's essay. They dissolved into scratches and crunching parchment until the door swung open and Luna strolled in.

"Hello Ginny, Hermione."

"Luna." They both nodded and she sat down on the end of Ginny's bed.

"You've received a letter from that scout, Ginny." She handed over the scroll. Without another word she ripped it open and saw the invitation for dinner tomorrow in Hogsmeade.

"You'll need to talk to Headmistress McGonagall." Hermione said over her shoulder, she had moved to get a better look.

"Tonight." Luna added. "She's quite busy these days. With the Yule Ball, and her class, as well as running the school. Of course she also is battling a bad case of the Whopples."

"You're right, Luna." Ginny quickly said so not to start her up on whatever Whopples were. She moved to the edge of the bed and tested her side. Despite the week she was still a little tender. It seemed like the second her feet hit the ground Madam Pomfrey materialized in front of them.

"You have not been discharged yet! You need to continue to rest until tomorrow morning." She shooed Hermione and Luna away from the bed.

"I need to talk to the Headmistress." She held up the scroll. Ginny held her eyes for a long moment, and then there was a slight nod.

"But you must come straight back." Madam Pomfrey firmly ordered.

"Of course." She slowly struggled around for her robes in the side drawer.

"You are still not fully healed. There is a lot of bruising Miss Weasley."

"I know, right back." She nodded and grabbed her wand as well.

"It's a shame you don't have that Invisibility Cloak that always helped Harry so much, Ginny." Luna said wistfully. "Everyone has just been dying to see you."

"Not to worry." She flicked her wand and her tangled mass of red hair gently smoothed down her back into a black sheen. She blinked at the two of them, knowing her eyes had changed to a deep blue, and struggled to her feet.

"Still very impressive." Hermione smiled.

"I always liked you better with green eyes." Luna observed. She smiled despite the pang in her chest. Hermione gave her a sympathetic look. She didn't have the heart to make them green anymore, it just hurt too much. She never could get the color right anyway.

"You have one hour." Madam Pomfrey ordered from her office and she nodded and snuck off to change.

* * *

~*~

"I had assumed you might need a little recovery time after that magnificent catch. The ribs heal right up but the bruising takes a bit. It seems you've healed up nicely." Marcus Allen said over a bite of steak and potatoes. She nodded, mutely, and took another sip of cider. "There has been quite a bit of speculation in the papers about whom you might sign with, Miss Weasley. I don't work with just any team in particular. More freelance if you will. Then again we all seem to be freelance these days, I reckon." Marcus Allen paused to take another bite.

"Too many empty spots to fill. Makes the job a bit stressful, but still highly enjoyable. I've tended to always keep my ear to the ground, hear what's going on at the schools. Quite a buzz was building about Potter two years back. Seems he's moved on, though." Mr. Allen gave her a cheeky smile. She briefly returned it, thinly, so as not to give him a reason to continue that line of thought. "Turnsdale told me about you, said he saw some actual raw talent. Quite rare these days. Because I was able to take an interest and scout you several teams are eager to get your attention. The Harpies, in particular, think you would be an asset to their team."

"I'd love to play for them." She evenly said. Fighting down the swelling and building excitement that was coursing through her body had made it impossible to eat. All she had managed to do was nurse a mug of half warm cider.

"They'd love to have you. Made an offer as a matter of fact." He smiled and shifted his weight to pull out a stack of parchment. He set them down on the table, but then to her annoyance took another bite of his dinner. "I've got the contract here. We also have the sign on bonus set up. Lots to do, lots and lots. But I'd like to just have a word with you before we start all that."

"Of course." She forced a smile, her hands itching to grab at the parchment or at Mr. Allen and shake him with happiness.

"I've spoken at length with Turnsdale and he said you have an aptitude for Charms, Defense, Transfiguration…you could be an Auror. Merlin knows we need a slew of them right now. Did you have any other back up plans if this doesn't work out? A smart girl like you, you have so much potential. I'd hate to see you slinging butterbeers if an injury ends this all for you." He paused to wait for her response.

"With all due respect, sir, being an Auror never crossed my mind. It's a noble calling, but also a dangerous one." Her stomach twisted at the thought of Harry sleeping on the cold ground in some unnamed country right now. "I want to play Quidditch, for as long as I can. I'll figure out what to do after that when I get there."

"Of course, of course." He mumbled and took a swig of his drink. "I just like to make sure the fame and fortune, the celebrity of being a Quidditch player, doesn't blind young recruits, like you, into thinking you have no other talents, nothing to fall back on. It's a sad day when you see one of your recruits struggling with their lives because they had no other passions."

"I have other passions. But Quidditch is on the forefront of my mind." She lowly and evenly managed. "It's what I've been waiting to do."

"You can't play Quidditch forever, Miss Weasley." He said sadly, holding her gaze.

"Nor can you be an Auror, Mr. Allen." She responded immediately.

"Too true." He conceded and pushed his plate away. "Then let's get down to it." He clapped his hands and pulled out the first document. "First things first, welcome to the Harpies!" He held out his hand and she shook it enthusiastically.

"Thank you so much." She beamed.

"Second," he pulled out the top scroll. "They don't want you running off to another team, so they are prepared to offer you a sign on bonus to keep you here. You will receive half the money now, and the other half upon leaving school. After you finish up Hogwarts you will have your formal tryout to place you on the team, and decided which string you'll be at. After that time your salary will kick into play and training will begin." He pushed the paper in front of her and her mouth dropped open at the amount.

"Surely this is too much." She felt herself blush.

"You are a double threat, both Seeker and Chaser. I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit Miss Weasley." He gave her a wicked smile and passed along a self inking quill. She looked over the agreement again and signed her name at the bottom.

"Thank you." She exhaled.

"And here's the bonus." He pulled out a large sack of coins from his pocket and slid it across the table to her. "Now let's get down to the real business at hand."

He turned the cover of the large stack of parchment and the amount of ink on the page made her eye refuse to focus for a moment. With a deep breath she cleared her mind and concentrated on every single word.

* * *

~*~

She walked through the twilight lit grounds and up to the front gate still reeling from the meeting and signing her name to so many things when Hermione stood up from sitting on the front steps to the castle and moved toward her.

"So? Tell me everything!" Hermione called out to her. "Are you a Harpy?" Hermione's voice rose over the dirty, mushy snow and biting air. She took the few remaining steps and paused in front of Hermione.

"Of course I am." She smiled and Hermione let out a shriek of happiness and started clapping and hugging her. She winced and tried to move Hermione's enthusiastic arms away from her injury. More then anything it annoyed her that they were still so tender.

"Sorry, the ribs." Hermione pulled back immediately and gave her a wonderful smile. Her eyes almost looked like they were shining with tears. "Oh, Ginny. I'm so proud of you! You've been working so hard for this, and now look at you!"

"Thank you, Hermione." She smiled back. "You helped as well, it wasn't all me. You should think about being a coach!"

"Psh!" She blew out from her mouth. "I have other plans in mind."

"It would be a shame to use all your brilliance on coaching." Ginny added.

"Although I bet I could get the Cannons to win a cup if I really wanted to." Hermione raised an eyebrow at her.

"I think the Cannons are doomed to lose forever. But Ron might actually explode with happiness if you were the one to bring them to victory." She laughed.

"We'd be picking up pieces of him all over the pitch, it would be horrible!" Hermione giggled.

"It would be a noble death." She laughed again and grabbed her side. "Damn ribs."

"Have patience. You've beaten the hardest team for the season, you're signed on to one of the best teams in the League, and Christmas break is quickly approaching. What could possibly go wrong now, Ginny?" Hermione linked arms with her and pushed open the front door to the castle.

"Don't jinx me, alright." She grumbled, and they shuffled through the growing whispers and blatant pointing.

* * *

~*~

"GINNY!" Seamus screamed out in the Great Hall amidst breakfast the next morning and rushed her from his spot on the table. He nearly tackled her in the crushing hug he held her in. "Bloody amazing! Just read it in the Prophet!" He jostled her up and down, still crushing her against his body.

"Thanks, Seamus." She huffed, her chest compressing. "Can't breathe."

"Right, sorry there!" He set her back down and Dean was the next one to wrap in another crushing hug. Then Neville, then Hermione again, then Luna, then Pugh; the line of hugs and pats, hand shakes and well wishes continued. All the tables were pushing against each other to get a better look, and then McGonagall cleared her throat, loudly, over her morning toast and she shuffled toward her seat.

"Thanks, everyone." She smiled and looked at the table. The papers had all been to the sports section and her single, claim to fame was plastered across the front page:

**Hogwarts Student Signed to Holyhead Harpies**

Before she could even get some toast on her plate the first owl dropped off a letter from her Dad, then Bill and Fleur, then her Mum, then Percy. Charlie's note was hurried and slightly singed but very expressive. They all made her feel like she was glowing, and she couldn't be happier, until two owls carried in the last package and set it gently down on the table before taking off swiftly. People started to crowd and she looked at the tag. George and Ron.

"It could be very dangerous to open that." Hermione lowly cautioned.

"How bad could it be?" She shrugged and pulled the ribbon. Three flashes of green, black, and gold shot up into the vaulted, enchanted ceiling. Fireworks, almost blinding there were so many of them, filled the Great Hall. Once they exploded they showered down candy, trinkets, and disappearing Gallons upon the entire Great Hall, including the head table. Shrieks of laughter mixed with the booming explosions of presents, and she looked around at the frenzy that erupted.

As the final few fireworks went off another set of silver jets flew up into the sky, and when they exploded it spelled out: Congrats Ginny! Make us proud!

"A little over the top." Hermione grinned toward her.

"No," she welcomed the blush that raced across her skin this time. "It was perfect."

* * *

~*~

It was Tuesday by the time Harry's fatigued bird swooped down upon her lunch and refused to move off the plate of sandwiches.

"Oh, she's exhausted." Two fourth years cooed and started to pet the bird as it gratefully pecked at their hands. Ginny, on the other hand, recognizing the bird, pulled out her leg and unraveled the small strip of paper attached to it.

_You're brilliant! Congrats! –H_

She shoved the note deep into her pockets and let out an unexpected huff of breath. She'd never admit it to anyone but she had been waiting for Harry's letter most of all. There was this large part of her that didn't think it was real until he responded.

"She finally found you?" Hermione asked as she settled down next to her. Harry's bird was still soaking up the attention and pecking at all the food on the table.

"Word travels slow in the field I guess." She shrugged and finished off her soup. "I better leave now before the whole table turns into twittering idiots over this bird."

"She is pretty. Harry always did choose beautiful birds." Hermione smiled toward the ruffling owl.

"I'll get your bag, Ginny." Neville jumped up from his seat and slung her backpack over his shoulder.

"Neville, really." She tried to grab it back.

"Do your ribs still hurt?" He stepped out of her grasp and started moving backward out of the hall.

"Of course they do, but I don't need to be babied." She tried to make another grab.

"Think of it as a friendly gesture." He smiled. Hermione cleared her throat. They both looked at her. She took a large breath and concentrated far too hard on her book and refused to meet their eyes.

"Really. Give it back." She held out her hand and he reluctantly complied. "Let's get out of here." She jutted her head toward the gaggle of fussing girls surrounding the bird. He followed close to her and she felt the eyes of the Hall follow her. It didn't get any better on their way to class.

"Neville," she leaned close to him and whispered. "Is it just me or are people staring more than usual?"

"Hmm." He looked around as they continued to make a slow move toward their lesson. The hallways seemed to pop out students as they passed. People were actually pointing at the two of them. "It does seem a bit odd."

"Did you get you hands on a Witch Weekly lately? Am I missing something? Some new lie?" She continued to whisper. Neville pressed his lips together, and paled slightly.

"Ginny." He carefully said.

"What do you know?" She barked at him. A first year squealed and ran away in front of them.

"Calm down." Neville hissed at her, looking around. He shifted his backpack as they turned a corner.

"Just tell me." She moaned. "I'm so sick of everyone dragging these things out thinking they're going to hurt my feelings or something."

"Not your feelings. We're afraid you're going to lash out at us." Neville quickly corrected. "I could care less about your feelings." He added mockingly smug.

"Cold hearted!" She frowned, and then laughed.

"There's this picture floating around. It's probably nothing." His voice bounced as they made their way up the stairs. Crowds of Hufflepuffs parted before them.

"Of me?"

"Of Harry." Neville lowly said.

"Doing what?" She slowly asked, fearing to know.

"More like with whom." He paused in front of the door to their class, looked around for a moment, and then pushed open the door, ushering her into the empty classroom. Neville threw his backpack down, pulled out a glossy magazine, and handed it to her. "Dean confiscated it from some third year. He gave it to me. Everyone's been trying to keep it from you; I said we should just let you know the second these things crop up."

"What are you even talking about?" She looked at the cover of Luminary Magazine, the Weird Sister's were posing around their instruments, bold neon headlines wrapped around them as they grimaced and plucked away at their strings.

"Page seven."

"This better be good." She warned and flipped through the slick pages. It was a blurb, nothing like the blaring headlines she'd grown so accustomed to in the last few weeks. The picture was slightly blurry, taken from far away, and it wasn't of anything significant. But her heart actually stopped in her chest for a moment.

**Moving On? Or Sneaking Around?**

_Not even days after the announcement of his never verified girlfriend's addition to the Harpy roster, photographers snapped this little jewel of the famed Boy Who Lived and a mysterious woman. What are they doing alone in this forest? Who is she? And most importantly does his 'girlfriend' know? We're thinking not! Rest assured we'll keep you posted as this develops!_

She looked hard at the picture again; Harry holding back an armful of bushes and brush for a woman with long brown hair. Before you could even see her face they turned into the forest and disappeared again. It was nothing. Really. Nothing at all. But her hands started to shake. She swallowed hard and forced a laugh,

"This is the giant secret?"

"I know, right?" Neville took the magazine back out of her hand and with a flick of his wand gave it a fiery end. "I don't know why everyone's so worked up about it. I'm sure Harry is working with female Aurors all the time. It's just these trashy tabloids. They try to make something out of nothing."

"I'd bet money Felicity Dagwood is the one who hid out in the bushes to get it." She took a deep breath and felt her nerves start to fade away. It was nothing.

"Could you imagine?" Neville let out a peel of laughter. "All those twigs sticking in her hair, and her clothes filthy and dirty from all the snow and mush!"

"I bet she had to fend off bears and hungry rabbits just to get a shot of them walking through brush. I mean why does that even matter?" She grabbed her backpack and moved toward her seat. It was nothing at all. Neville set his bag down in the seat next to her and started pulling out all his books.

"Slow news day, I guess. Those magazines should all be used as kindling if you ask me." He finished with a chuckle and looked over his homework.

"I second that." She responded and looked out the window, suddenly feeling quite moody.

* * *

~*~

The next couple of days did not improve her mood at all. The few other tabloids ran with the story, and by Friday The Daily Prophet had a blurb of it deep within their own entertainment section. New pictures were emerging, always of Harry and this girl, always with them doing something that looked like work, and always with the tag or headline or sentence wondering if Ginny knew or not. She'd taken to snapping at anyone that got in her way in the halls. It was making people scatter, but it made her feel better. It didn't look very good to an outsider that all these pictures were appearing and her mood was exponentially getting darker, but she didn't care.

"You'd think all the Death Eaters in the world had been captured and sentenced to death. You'd think that any bad thing that could ever happen became butterflies and rainbows and bollocks with all this coverage. Why exactly do reporters feel the need to speculate on blurry pictures and create lies?" She jabbed at her dinner again.

"You'd think that meatloaf was still alive at the rate you've been stabbing it." Neville commented, and Seamus laughed so unrepentantly pumpkin juice spurted from his mouth and splashed his dinner.

"When did you get so funny?" She eyed Neville.

"When did you get so solemn?" He countered back. Seamus had that slaphappy grin across his face that he would get last year when she and Neville would banter with each other. Hermione continued to burry her nose in the Transfiguration book she had propped up at the table.

"I thought I was supposed to be the comedic part of our twosome." She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I wasn't aware we were a twosome." He smiled. It irked her. Last year she would have played along. Lately she was in no mood, her temper flared and without thinking she snapped at him,

"Surely you must. It's the current rumor around the halls." She turned toward him. "The Dumped Weasley and the Boy Who Almost Was."

"Ginny!" Hermione's book closed with a crack. The smiles and beginnings of giggling immediately stalled.

"I'm missing something, aren't I?" Neville locked his eyes on her. A dark laugh bubbled to the surface.

"Oh, if you only knew."

"Ginny." Hermione warned again, this time a low whisper.

"Fine." She grumbled at Hermione. "I'll take it all to the grave." She pushed her food away and stood up from the table muttering under her breath, "Harry Bloody Potter."

Too angry to go back to dinner, too restless to go mope in the common room, and too cold to even think about setting foot outside she continued to stride toward the Room of Requirement.

She heard Neville close behind her. Not that she blamed him, she did throw out a horrible secret, but she didn't want him with her. She wanted to vent alone, she wanted to punch something until she broke a sweat. The constant barrage of magazines and articles and whispers echoed in her head at all times, clouding her already scattered thoughts. Her brain was half Harry and half actual living. She stood before the wall for the Room of Requirement and emptied her brain to only fill with one thought.

_I need a place to be alone. I need a place to be alone. I need a place to be alone._

The door appeared before her and she looked back for a moment and met eyes with Neville. He locked his serious brown on her own and she gave him a slight nod and entered the room. The door swung shut behind them and he let out an impatient breath.

"Are you going to tell me?"

"I bet you already know." She flopped down onto an overstuffed armchair and tossed her feet up onto the matching ottoman. Neville gave her an annoyed and expectant stare and sat down in the empty space on the ottoman.

"Like all things in your life, it must be about Harry." He mulled it over.

"Not everything in my life is about Harry." She argued and played with the ends of her hair, examining it for split ends.

"Please, name one thing for me." He grumbled.

"Quidditch." She kicked off one shoe.

"He bought your broom." Neville raised an eyebrow at her.

"My family." She pushed off the other.

"Ron is his best friend. He's a son to your parents." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"My studies." She gave him a cocky grin.

"Ransach's assignments count as much as anything else." He countered.

"My clothes." She fell back, deep, into the down stuffed chair.

"Now you're grasping at straws." He shook his head and held her eyes. "Just tell me I'm right."

"Maybe you are." She closed her eyes.

"You said something important. Hermione doesn't get that worked up over nothing." His voice wrapped around her in the tiny silence of the room. She kept her eyes closed, feeling like if she made eye contact the betrayal would be worse.

"It was almost you."

"Almost me, what?" She felt him lean toward her and opened her eyes; brown on brown. She leaned forward and touched her finger to his forehead tracing the shape of a lightning bolt across his skin.

"Don't mess with me, Ginny." He grabbed her wrist and held onto it.

"Two children were born, within days of each other. According to the prophecy one would vanquish the Dark Lord. You, and the Chosen One." She didn't dare move, continuing to hold incredibly still just inches in front of him, her wrist still grasped in his warm hand.

"But," he trailed off and let go of her wrist but continued to stay close.

"He was chosen. That's the only difference between you. It was almost you." She leaned back in her chair. "Should I not have said anything?"

"No." He said to his hands, and then shook himself awake. He looked up at her. "I'm glad you did."

"I shouldn't have said anything." She stood up and moved away from him, her stomach starting to churn with emotions. Conflict. Regret. Betrayal. Once it had made it past her lips it felt wrong. She had betrayed a confidence. If she endured Ransach's torturous questions why couldn't she do the same for Neville?

But Neville would never use this information for evil. He might never tell anyone ever again. And it was _his_ information to know. His parents had been tortured into a half existence for much of the same reasons that Harry's were dead. He deserved to know. But it still felt wrong.

"I'm glad you did." Neville's eyes followed her around the room as she paced between the two deep velvet couches. "No, really I am." He stood up and paused right in front of her.

"Honestly, I think I've done you a disservice. Some things are better left unsaid. There was a reason Harry didn't…" She backed up against the wall, running her fingers against the raised, thick, wallpaper.

"Tell me himself?" Neville's voice dropped. "I have a feeling I know why he didn't. Information like that can destroy you with all the what if's."

"If you only knew half of what I know." Her voice cracked with a hollow laugh as she said it.

"I don't suppose you'd tell me?" He softly asked.

"Never." She met his eyes and frowned. "I shouldn't have even told you that."

"That's an awful lot to carry on your own."

"It's not." She ducked around him and back out into the room. It was lined with books from floor to ceiling, large Persian rugs across every inch of floor, the two velvet couches, the overstuffed paisley chair and ottoman, and a small wooden table with chocolate chip biscuits on it. She grabbed one. "And I guess it's not all on my own. Hermione and Ron know an awful lot as well. It's only Harry and I that know every single detail."

"And here I was thinking Harry trusted no one." Neville grabbed a biscuit and sprawled out across one of the couches.

"He trusts me." She sat back down in the chair.

"Do you trust him?"

"Always." She automatically responded despite the flashes across her vision of the beautiful, silky haired brunette that continued to crop up everywhere with Harry. A forest here, a meadow there, a snow bank, a darkened street, in front of the Ministry, in someone's garden. She shook her head slightly to get rid of the images. "I've trusted Harry with my life so many times that I don't even think that word can encompass what I feel for him anymore. It's something more than trust."

"Do you trust me?" Neville sat up.

"Of course I do." She kicked up her feet again. "You're my best friend."

"I though Harry was your best friend." He eyed her carefully.

"Harry's my boyfriend, Neville. You've been my best friend for longer." She smiled, and was rewarded with one of his half grins, the smile spreading lopsided across his face.

"You know everything about Harry." He started.

"Yes. Every horrible detail." She suppressed the shuddered.

"But does he know everything about you?" He stood and crossed the room. She watched her wiggling toes, the pinky popping out from a hole in her sock. "Does he know everything you did last year? The sacrifices we made? The burden _you_ carried?" Neville continued to hold the silence, waiting.

"No."

"Because he doesn't want to know?" He cautiously asked attempting to hide his shock, but she knew him better than that.

"Because I don't want to tell him." She looked up at him. "I don't want to burden him with all this anguish he can't control. He doesn't need to know the terrible things that happened here. It's over."

"You should think about that." He tapped her feet, gently, and moved for the door. "I think it's something he'd want to know. I would…if it was different."

"You're not mad I told you?" She asked his back. He paused, turned, his hand on the doorknob.

"No, I'm happy. Harry's had a…horrible life, Ginny. To tell you the truth, I think you're the best thing that ever happened to him. My life hasn't been that bad. I don't even want to think what it would have been like if it were me instead."

She watched his face turn introspective as the possibility of what his life could have been flashed before his eyes. Horror, anger, betrayal, love, it all crossed his eyes. For a split second he looked at her completely unguarded and she saw something that fluttered her stomach. Regret. Over what she couldn't be sure. But he quickly threw his guard back up and took a breath. "No, I think I can live with the destiny I was chosen for."

"Lucky you."

"Lucky him." He gave her a blazing look and then slipped out the door. She let out a long breath and looked around the room. That comment could not be taken any other way. Her stomach flipped with a very uncomfortable feeling.

* * *

~*~

As if her assignments, and classes, and blisteringly cold practices weren't enough already, she was starting to get owls from the manager of the Harpies about things she should add to her diet and her exercise regimen.

"Exercise regimen? I don't even exercise to begin with." She said to the letter, scrunching her eyebrows together. "How am I supposed to run an hour a day when we're stuck in all this bloody snow?"

"You'll have to figure something out, Ginny. Professional Quidditch players are in impeccable shape." Dean gave her a shrug and a smile. "Maybe you can run around inside the castle."

"That won't make people think anything at all. There goes Ginny Weasley, finally driven insane!" She folded the letter back up and shoved it into her robes.

"Maybe you need a treadmill." Seamus offered.

"A what?" She gave him a wary look.

"It's this Muggle piece of exercise equipment where you run in place on it." He shifted his homework around at the table he was sharing with Dean.

"I don't think it would work inside Hogwarts, Seamus. Too much magic." Hermione said, still looking down at her book and notes. "Are you ready, Dean?"

"You don't suppose we could take one night off, Hermione?" Dean moaned and snapped his book shut. Hermione didn't even look up from her homework, just sighed at him, and it was enough. Dean started to put all his things away. She took a closer look at the parchment Hermione was feverishly writing on and noticed it was not homework.

"Who are you writing to?" She pushed aside the cave of books Hermione had buried herself in and saw three words appearing frequently on the page: Harry, Neville, and Ginny. "What are you writing, Hermione?"

"Nothing." She snapped up the parchment and it rolled closed. She shoved it into her robes and stood up. "Dean?"

"Fine. Fine." Dean grumbled and followed on the heels of Hermione who had made it halfway across the common room already.

"She's been acting strange lately." Seamus leaned back against the couch, ignoring the ink that was slowly creeping toward his homework.

"Suspicious. She's been acting suspicious." Ginny corrected, and then wordlessly siphoned up all his ink before it ruined his homework. After a moment a nameless third year busted through the portrait hole holding a glossy magazine above her head as if it were a trophy. Ginny felt her stomach drop.

"I've got it! I've got it! My sister finally sent it to me!" She disappeared into a crowd of younger year students. They all instantly erupted with whispers and giggles. Ginny rolled her eyes and started back on her Potion's assignment She found it hard to believe that she was ever that obnoxious, but she tried not to butt into anything, it just gave everyone further incentive.

"Oh my god! Look at him! So blatant!"

"That's just so rude, let me see Laura."

"It's no wonder, she's gorgeous!"

"Still there's no need to cheat so out in the open!"

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Seamus shift uncomfortably in his seat and then glance back at the girls. She quietly said,

"Leave it, Seamus. It's probably nothing."

"I just don't like it when people are whispering about you in front of your face, Ginny." He responded a little loudly. The girls stopped for a moment, and then continued on in lower whispers.

"I'm sure it's Harry coming out of a loo or something stupid like that. I have no idea how they keep getting these blurry pictures but it's nothing to get worked up about. I doubt he even knows they are being taken." She scratched out the last paragraph of her essay as she commented, and watched as it faded from the page so she could start over again.

"I'm sure you're right." He sighed, but still looked over his shoulder at the group. She glanced up for a moment and Seamus gave a little nod toward the group at someone else.

"I'll take that." Neville's voice rang out over the whispers. She held her breath and continued to look down at her assignment. The boys could do whatever they wanted but she always had to be in control of her actions whenever Harry was involved. Always.

"No you won't! It's mine!" One of the girls screeched.

"I'm older than you and I know for a fact Hermione doesn't want these filthy magazines in here. So give it to me, or I'll tell her." Neville ordered.

"That's blackmail!" Someone gasped.

"And what are you going to do about it?" Neville retorted and she heard the magazine flutter into his hands. The group of girls dissolved into mutters and hissing and Neville sat down next to Seamus. "I swear."

"What was it this time?" Seamus laughed and grabbed the magazine out of his hands. Ginny looked up as the smile fell off of Seamus' face.

"What?" She whispered, still very aware of the entire common room watching her.

"She has a name, Ginny." Seamus muttered and flipped the front of the magazine toward her. Bold and glaring the headline jumped out at her:

**Harry Potter's Mystery Girl Revealed to be Colette Badeau**

There was no mistaking it this time; they both knew their picture was being taken. In the two seconds that the moving picture showed her, Harry and Colette Badeau exited a pub together, Harry saw the camera, Colette hid her face, and then Harry's hand came down on the camera lens. It repeated over and over again as her eyes refused to blink. Seamus slowly lowered the magazine and she gave him a blank smile and then looked back down at her homework.

The common room melted into mutterings and whispers, but the roaring of blood in her ears blocked most of it out. She looked blindly down at her homework and started re-dotting the periods. She had to do anything to make it look like she wasn't freaking out, because she was. She'd felt all the blood drain from her head, felt her heart bang against her ribs, her mouth dried out, and her breaths felt tight in her chest. After about fifteen minutes the hissing and surprise dissolved back into mundane activities, although she could still feel the energy of everyone waiting for her real reaction. Neville and Seamus in particular were on edge, re-reading pages over and over again and sneaking glances at her.

"Bill you shouldn't put that in…" Someone yelled out and a caldron in the corner boomed with a smattering of purple goo all over everyone. Seamus and Neville both stood up to see what went wrong and she quickly and quietly banished the magazine to her room. She looked back down at her homework again as they boys moved toward the commotion to get it under control. Amidst the bustle she shoved everything into her bag and took off for the stairs. She was sure at least a few people did see her, but not enough to cause another round of whispers.

The door clicked shut behind her and she locked it. Her bag dropped to the floor with a thud, and she covered the floor to her bed within a breath. The picture stared up at her again and she sighed at the cover,

"Oh, Harry. What's going on?"

She turned to the fourth page and saw the picture repeated again, and then a smaller one below it of their retreating backs before they both disappeared. This woman, Colette Badeau, was beautiful in every sense of the word. Long legs, long hair, long fingers, everything about her was elegant and refined. Despite being a female Auror she had perfect nails, her hair still looked sleek and shiny in a tight ponytail, and her clothes were immaculate. Ginny didn't even want to look down at what she was wearing at the moment; it would only depress her further. Instead she concentrated on the important parts of the article. She had learned, over the past few weeks that the opening paragraph, a middle one, and the final paragraph was all she needed to read. Everything else was filler.

_The gorgeous mystery woman caught sneaking around with Harry Potter was finally identified as none other than the infamous Colette Badeau of the French Ministry's Auror Department. Although the French Ministry had no comment on the status of any current Aurors we did some snooping and found that she had asked to be transferred to England, citing the desire to help where it was needed. Badeau is known, throughout France, for the daring and slightly scandalous rescue of her partner at the time Francis Badeau. Her heroics against the grips of a rogue set of Wizards, much like the Death Eaters England is having such a hard time with, was print worthy. But it was her immediate marriage to her partner that caused scandal to erupt._

Her eyes scanned the one of the middle paragraphs:

_The two have been seen all about Ireland and England in search of some of the still dangerous and wanted Death Eaters that have fled after the fall of the Dark Lord. Never in one spot long enough to ask questions, and surely never in one spot long enough to get a decent picture, the two continue to elude the rumors of their scorching affair. Some say that word has reached The Chosen One's on-again off-again girlfriend at Hogwarts. Even more people are saying that it no long matters since she has seemed to move on with another boy within the school's darkened corridors._

She blanched at the paragraph, and then looked at the final one:

_One thing is for certain, while all parties are continuing to stay mute about the subject, it seems that something is brewing. We will continue to keep you updated on the status of these torrid affairs and the subsequent catastrophe that is sure to explode!_

She looked at the magazine again, debating the best way to inflict the most damage upon the glossy pages when someone thumped against the door.

"Ginny!" Hermione called through, and she flicked her wand to lift the lock on the door. Hermione shrugged out of her jacket as she moved toward her bed.

"That was short." Ginny glared at the magazine again.

"Thank goodness the castle is so cold because of all this snow, everyone seems to be staying in their common rooms." She hung up the jacket and tossed her Head Girl badge at the bed. Ginny shook her head, more annoyed now than anything else.

"Catch." She tossed the fluttering pages to Hermione.

"What's this?" Her eyes roamed over the pictures and her surprise quickly turned into a frown. "Of all the nerve. Who wrote this trash?" She gave a dark smile to the page and then looked back up at Ginny.

"Dagwood." Ginny darkly answered.

"Of course." Hermione pointed to a sentence and then read aloud, "as they continue to scurry about in forests and darkened alleyways, one can't help but wonder if they do have something to hide."

"Rubbish." Ginny flopped down onto her bed.

"They're in forests and dark alleyways to find murderers! Felicity Dagwood is probably halting their progress more than anything with her blasted camera and her pushy nature." Hermione sassed to the magazine and then stopped as her eyes ran over something else. Ginny watched as she frowned and then quickly reset her features to disgust.

"What?"

"Nothing," she tossed the magazine at the fireplace, roaring to keep the room bearable, "that woman annoys me so much. The lies she spreads."

"Like the one where she's trying to hint that I've 'moved on' what's that about anyway?" She laughed. Hermione didn't, but gave her a fast smile on her way toward the bathroom.

"Who knows, Ginny?" She said and shut the door firmly behind her. Before she could even ponder what Hermione could possibly get so worked up about now she looked at the clock and tipped back her sleeping draught.

* * *

~*~

Felicity Dagwood and her fictional tale of Harry and Colette Badeau's affair continued to follow her through the weekend and into Wednesday. When she wasn't getting a whisper and point she was getting a sympathetic smile. It was driving her insane. Each day another feature would come out, and each day it was getting worse. 'Spotted having dinner together', 'Does her husband know', 'The two so close will history repeat itself', 'Romance on the run', it was enough to make her want to rip her hair out. The worst part, the part that cleaved at her heart and clouded all her thoughts was that Harry had not said anything.

She knew she shouldn't worry, she knew he couldn't send anything; she knew that he was probably too busy to even care, but she was getting the full force of all the lies and it was planting a tiny seed of doubt. A scrap of paper, a visit from Kreacher, even second hand word from Ron would have sufficed, but she was alone in the dark on this one. Today's torture was a rehash of where Harry and Colette had been 'allegedly' spotted over the past three days. Although several of them were not true in any way, shape, or form. As if they would be having a holiday on the beaches of the French Riviera. Dagwood then juxtaposed how it was quite similar to the events that proceeded Colette and her husband's eventual pairing.

"All it proves is that they are getting closer and closer to danger. They've almost caught who they're after." Hermione commented after she tossed the magazine away as if it stank.

"I don't want either situation to happen." She moaned and put her head down on the table, dinner continuing on around her.

"Harry is an Auror, Ginny. He's always going to be right on the heels of trouble." Hermione sassed at her. She glared at her through her hair and Neville cleared his throat.

"Have any of you managed to get your robes for the Yule Ball yet?"

"Shut up, Neville." Ginny groaned and sat back up.

"Just trying to keep the peace." He held up his hands and then took another bite of dinner. Hermione ignored their exchange, focusing instead on her Charms book.

"Why can't you ever agree with me, Hermione?" Ginny grumbled at her as she pushed her carrots onto Neville's plate. She stabbed up all his green beans onto her own and Hermione raised an eyebrow at her.

"I don't have the energy to start a fight with you, Ginny. Pick on someone else." She coolly replied.

"You are impossible! You've been giving me your judging glances all week! Yet you still continue to hang around me. Make up your mind because you are obviously upset about something I'm doing." She turned her fully fury onto her. Hermione just continued to read her book, indifferent and unaffected.

"You know exactly what you're…" Hermione turned at her and lowly seethed but was abruptly cut off.

"Miss Weasley." McGonagall's voice rose above the din of dinner and everything came to a screeching halt. She looked up at the head table and McGonagall was standing, holding a very official looking letter in the black, red, and gold of St. Mungo's. A tawny owl took off out of the Great Hall, and she felt her stomach drop into her feet.

"No." She lowly gasped, and Neville's hand automatically found her elbow.

"Miss Weasley, please come with me." McGonagall locked eyes with her and pushed away from the Head table. Hermione put a cold hand on top of her own and the thought passed through both of their eyes quickly and wordlessly. Harry. She stood and heard her footsteps echo up into the enchanted snowing ceiling of the Great Hall as she made her way toward the table. She willed her feet not to trip at how fast she was moving, that step right before a jog.

"Yes, Headmistress?" She lowly said as she met up with her halfway down the Head table. It was so quiet in the Great Hall that their conversation was not private at all.

"You have been summoned to St. Mungo's immediately. Please follow me." She finished with a clipped tone and moved toward the back hallway to the Head Office. Ginny gave one fleeting look back toward her friends and locked eyes with Neville first. He was holding onto Hermione's arm as she was attempting to stand, his eyes were bright and scared. She saw Hermione next, slightly stunned, struggling to get out of Neville's grasp and follow her. She didn't have a chance to say anything; she turned the corner and fled down the hall.

"Mr. Potter has been injured, he is currently unconscious. The letter did not give specifics. It only stated that due to his current condition the hospital needed to call upon his Medical Proxy and emergency contacts. St. Mungo's has set up a private Floo for you from my office. You must go immediately." She hit the stairs and they moved up them swiftly. Without a moment's hesitation McGonagall threw a handful of powder into the fireplace and barked out,

"St. Mungo's, floor three and a half, London."

"Three and a half, does that even exist?" She squeaked as McGonagall moved out of the way and the fireplace burned with green flames.

"Private floor for Aurors and celebrities. Give Potter my best." McGonagall gave her a tight smile, and with a slight push she went flying through space, knocking elbows against bricks and wood, and landed with a thump in a dimly lit drawing room.

"Miss Weasley?" A female voice asked in the darkness.

"Who wants to know?" She stammered, rubbing her raw elbows.

"Follow me." The voice commanded and a door opened to industrial lighting outside. A Mediwitch in pink hospital robes moved out the door and she jogged to keep up with her. It wasn't a very long corridor before they pushed through a door and out into a hectic hallway. Aurors were lined up against the walls, bleeding and cursing, their family members were crowded around them crying. She slipped on a puddle of something and righted herself,

"Where's Harry?"

The whole hallway seemed to look at her and the Mediwitch turned around for a moment,

"Follow me."

"Sorry." She mumbled and moved around an Auror who was still smoking from some spell. Their eyes continued to follow her as they rounded a corner and stopped in another small corridor of doors.

"Second door on the left." The Mediwitch gestured to the door and she froze.

"Is he dead?" She asked in a small voice.

The Mediwitch gave her a funny look, blinked a couple of times and then let out a small laugh,

"Of course not."

"Oh." Ginny felt a giant sigh of relief come out with her response.

"I have to go." The Mediwitch gave her a small pat on the shoulder as she left her alone in the empty, darkened corridor.

"Okay, wow." She took a large breath and the second door on the right swung open to reveal Colette and she assumed Francis Badeau.

"Ginny Weasley?" Colette whispered in a heavy French accent.

"Yes?" She gave her a wary look.

"Je suis vraiment désolée. Tout ceci est de ma faute." She said in a rush of fast and thick French. Ginny couldn't even pick out a single word before she was crushed against Colette Badeau's vanilla scented chest. "Pardonnes-moi s'il vous plaît, tout ceci était de ma faute."

"Forgive my wife, she forgets her English when she is upset." Francis Badeaueua said in a grave voice behind the vice-like hug Colette continued to inflict upon her.

"What is she saying?" Ginny asked. Colette released her and she directed it again. "What are you saying? Is Harry okay? What happened? Is he dead?"

"Oh, no!" Colette shot her long fingered hand across own chest. "'Arry is most certainly alive. 'Ee is under 'eavy sedation at zee moment. I am afraid zis is all my fault." Colette's silver bracelets clanged against each other as her hand reached out from her chest to land on Ginny's shoulder.

"What do you mean your fault?"

"You're so much more beautiful zen I 'ad imagined." She gave her a sad smile. "Don't you think, Francis?"

"Yes, dear." Francis Badeauaue mumbled as he leaned against the doorframe to Harry's room.

"'Arry spoke of you so much, I apologize, I feel I know you already. All zoes 'orrible weeks we spent chasing after…we would pass zee time talking about our loves. I almost thought 'ee was French from zee amount 'ee had to say about you." She let out a sad little laugh and squeezed her shoulder again.

"Thank you?" Ginny's eyes darted around her, trying to see into the room. Francis had his arms folded across his chest, looking very intimidating, his eyes bouncing back and forth between her and his wife.

"I'm afraid 'ez current state is my fault alone. I was so stupid. J'aurai dû me contenter de l'écouter." Colette said in a hard and fast voice. "It must seem silly, a grown woman like myself wanting to impress a boy who 'as just come of age. But you must know, I was 'onored to be working with him. I was 'onored to 'ave zee chance to show my skill. 'Arry told me to wait around zee corner, to look out while 'ee checked an abandoned 'ouse." Large tears filled the woman's eyes as she spoke. They spilled down her face, mussing up her eye makeup. If it were even possible it made her look more beautiful, and Ginny just bit her lip to stop the groan of bitterness.

"They got him?" Ginny prompted, wanting her to finish her blasted story so she could finally get into the room.

"'See Francis, so brave! Si seulement je pouvais affronter les choses avec autant de courage. I see why 'ee loves you so. But, yes. Zee Death Eater we were chasing managed to 'it 'im before I took zee monster down. 'Ee was caught, but I'm afraid…" She trailed off as tears filled her eyes again. This time her husband pushed off the wall to console her.

"But will he be alright? No one has told me anything. Will he be alright?" She grabbed Colette's arm and tugged at it slightly to try and get her out of her puddle of tears. Instead of an answer she turned into her husband's broad shoulder and began to weep.

"He will recover." Francis said over the sobs that started to rip from Colette's throat. "We will leave you." With a quick whisper of French into his wife's hair they started to move around her toward the door. But right before they could pass Colette Badeau grabbed onto Ginny's arm and looked at her through dark, shining eyes, pleading,

"Pardonnez-moi, s'il vous plaît, pardonnez-moi!"

There was no language barrier to confuse her this time; she could read it all over her face.

"It's okay. Don't worry. Harry doesn't hold a grudge."

Colette nodded a few times and then began to cry again all the way out the door as her husband led her. Ginny felt a wave of vomit threaten to rise up her throat. If Colette Badeau, female, French, Auror extraordinaire was reduced to tears over what had happened with Harry, what exactly had happened? Once the door closed behind them she found herself frozen to the spot at the prospect of what she might enter on. Would he be bloody? Would he be broken? Bent at odd angles and bruised? Would he look dead? Could she be strong enough for him? Could she be strong enough for herself?

She didn't have to worry for long, the door swung open again behind her and a familiar blonde head brushed around her and stopped at Harry's doorway.

"Are you going to come in or not Miss Weasley?" Jenna gave her a small smile and disappeared into the room, her feet quickly followed.

There was only one bed in the room; it was a mostly bare space, save for a chair and a small side table. There were several machines puffing and smoking around the head of the bed, and a bump of white sheets slowly rose and fell, methodically.

"Harry." She whispered and rushed to the bed. She ignored Jenna as she checked all the machines and print outs. She pulled the tight sheets back and found his scabbed, limp, and dirty hands, grasping them in her own. Her eyes tried to take him in all at once, confused, and then she took a breath and looked at him a piece at a time. Wild, tangled black hair, a smudge of dirt across his left cheek, his brilliant green eyes hidden under dark purple lids, he didn't have a shirt on, instead it was a thick ring of bandages that wrapped around his chest from sternum down to the flimsy, paper thin hospital grade boxers they had no doubt put him in upon arrival. She pulled the sheet back up, placing his arms on top, folded, and rested her forehead against his stilled hands.

"We were able to catch the curse quite quickly thanks to the quick thinking of Mrs. Badeau. She stunned, bound, gagged, and froze the Death Eater, tethered him to her, and then Apparated all three of them here to the hospital. That act might have saved his life. We caught the curse, and immediately started work. He should wake up in the next few days." Jenna lowly commented as she scribbled down some notes on his chart.

"Days?" Ginny shot her head up and looked hard at Jenna.

"Or sooner." Jenna smiled and pressed a silver band to Ginny's forehead and then Harry's. Ginny, so used to the action from her own time in the hospital, didn't even blink twice.

"But he'll be fine once he wakes up?" She anxiously prodded.

"I believe so. Hard to tell until he does." Jenna looked at Harry for a moment.

"It's not going to maim him or anything, right?" She continued, squeezing his hands.

"We have a 98% success rate when the patient is treated within the first two hours." Jenna looked at Harry's blood red strip across his forehead and frowned.

"When did he get here? How soon did she get him here?" Ginny pushed.

"Within twenty minutes after the curse." Jenna pulled the strip off Ginny's forehead, dark blue. Ginny stared at the strip for a moment, stunned. Dark blue meant completely healed. She was completely healed now? Jenna gave her a tiny nod of approval. "It's the fastest we've ever been able to start healing someone."

"Oh, thank Merlin." She sighed and let her head fall back down onto his bed.

"Relax, Miss Weasley. I'm sure he will be just fine." Jenna gave her a warm smile and then quietly exited the room. The quill scratched against the never ending scroll of parchment, the instruments twirled and puffed out blue clouds of smoke, and she pulled the chair up right next to Harry's bed and sat down.

"I'm here, Harry. I'm here."

* * *

~*~

Hanging onto the bedrail and making sure one of her hands was always touching him, a group of four Aurors, all bandaged and bruised, entered the room. They looked at her for a moment, she looked back down at Harry, and they moved closer to get a look, but not close enough to touch.

"He'll be alright."

"Never met a tougher kid in my life."

"Our condolences, Miss."

She nodded and squeezed his limp hands. The men quickly left.

* * *

~*~

She'd paced for about an hour as the Mediwitches readjusted all his machines, forced three different potions down his throat, and re-bandaged his chest. Ugly red and black cuts ripped across his chest, almost looking as if they were sliced down to the bone underneath, they were still seeping blood. She'd felt the sudden urge to vomit and ran for the bathroom. When she came back they had tucked him tightly in again. She pulled the sheet out. Harry didn't like to be confined like that.

* * *

~*~

A mousy Mediwitch came in with a pitcher of water and a plate of hospital food. She set it down on the small table and then shifted, nervously, on her feet.

"This is so embarrassing, but could I have your autograph?"

She looked up from the haze of panic and exhaustion at the girl for a moment.

"What?" Ginny snapped.

"Your autograph. May I have it?" The woman said barely above a whisper.

"I'm not even famous." Ginny shook her head, attempting to clear it.

The Mediwitch laughed, tinkling and high, it grated on her nerves.

"Of course you are." She said and gave a significant look at Harry. "And you'll be even more famous once you start on the Harpies."

"Will you leave if I do?" She ran a tired hand across her forehead.

"Yes. Sorry. Here." She shoved a quill and a scrap of parchment. "My name is Mary."

_To Mary,_

_ All the best._

_ -Ginny Weasley_

She handed the parchment back and gave the girl a hard stare. Mary quickly backed out of the room. She banished the food.

* * *

~*~

She had her feet propped up onto the railing of his bed as she rested in the chair. Her feet slipped to the ground and she woke up with a start. Harry had not moved at all. His folded hands were still on top of the blankets, like she'd left them. His chest continued to rise and fall in a rhythmic fashion. She looked outside his window and it was washed out completely in white. For a fleeting moment she thought about Hermione and Neville, what they were probably dreaming about in the few hours they had left before they woke up for class. Then Harry took a large breath, his face scrunched in pain, he mumbled something in his sleep, and then shifted his hands around as if looking for something. As soon as it started he fell back asleep. She suddenly felt wide awake and knew she was in the right place.

* * *

~*~

The Mediwitches came back in to change the dressings, and so did Colette Badeau. The Mediwitches brought their bandages and ointments, sponging them all across his wounds and wrapping the white gauze around his torso again. They forced the three potions down his throat again. The deep cuts seemed to be healing, but they still looked angry and evil. Colette brought armfuls of flowers and a basket of freshly baked goods. She also brought a large thermos of coffee.

"Coffee always 'elps, eh?" She gave her the mug and she managed a small smile. They all departed and she downed the first glass looking at the tulips Colette had left and wondering if the woman would buy an entire Dutch field if she thought it could make things better. It made her feel even worse about ever doubting him.

* * *

~*~

She'd drifted off in the chair again, and Harry let out a groan of pain. She jumped to her feet, each foot exploding with pins and needles from keeping them propped up as she slept, but she forced herself on them anyway and grabbed his searching, shaking hand. It was a light grip, but it was enough, and she leaned against the bedrail to help keep herself propped up until the blood could make its way back down to her feet. A Mediwitch entered the room and checked his machines and chart.

"We might wake him up soon. He's healing quite well."

"Don't you think we should let him wake up on his own?"

"Oh no. Curses like that are far too much for anyone to handle. Even him." She gave her a bright smile and left the room again. She looked down at his face; even in the induced sleep he still looked tired. She dropped her head and her neck let out a loud pop, alleviating some of the pressure that was building in her shoulders. She had no idea how he'd done this for a month.

* * *

~*~

She'd been working on trying to make a yellow blanket out of the ugly brown ones they had in place when Jenna and two other Mediwitches entered the room. One was holding the bandages and ointment, the other was holding the potions and a tube.

"What are you doing?" She ordered and stood up, her hand quickly hitting the bed, landing on his knee, protecting him.

"We need to wake him up, ask him a few questions, and then if necessary put him back to sleep." The Mediwitch to Jenna's left said in a calm and soothing voice. It pissed her off.

"Can't you tell how he's doing by his charts and read outs?" She continued to hold her stance.

"Of course we can, honey." The Mediwitch to Jenna's right cooed at her.

"Don't call me honey. I'm no one's honey." She snapped and swore she saw the ghost of a smile fall across Jenna's face. The two helper Mediwitch frowned at her.

"We just need to ask him one question. He might fall back asleep on his own. His carts are indicating that he is in far less pain than before. If at any time you wish for us to stop, just let us know." Jenna gave her a long look.

"Jenna." The Mediwitch on the left whispered.

"Our hands are tied. Mr. Potter named her Medical Proxy, she is the one designated to make decisions for him while he is incapacitated." Jenna warned the girl, and then moved toward the bed. She started mumbling and almost humming over his body as her wand flicked and moved with ease. Harry started to stir, his hand flopping around, and she grabbed it.

"Harry?" She hesitantly asked. "Harry, can you hear me?"

"Ginny?" He croaked and cracked open a single slit of eye. She squeezed his hand and forced the tears and shout of relief deep into her chest. She looked at Jenna.

"Mr. Potter, how are you feeling?"

"Horrible." He whispered.

"Are you still in any pain?" Jenna continued.

"Chest. Ribs. Stomach." He grimaced, and she sucked in a short breath. His machines started to squawk and buzz above them. "Ginny." His voice called out to her, in obvious pain.

"Put him back under." She ordered, looking at the girl with the tube.

"Miss Weasley…" the girl started. She gave her a dark look, Harry let out a cry of pain that dissolved into the beginning of tears.

"Do it now, or so help me…" She ordered. The tube was forced through his teeth to allow the cocktail of potions to easily go down. Harry instantly fell back asleep, Jenna ushered the girls out of the room, and she dropped into the chair and wept.

* * *

Author's Notes:

TOW Gunner = Rock Star. Thank you for your honesty and lightning quick work! And you were right…this isn't an episode of 24! LOL

Sirusly Siriused~ Thank you for your wonderful grace in telling me that my translations were horrible! LOL Thanks GOOGLE!


	24. Chapter 24

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 24~

_She tries to explain_

'_It's you that makes me happy',_

_Whatever, whatever, whatever_

_Whatever happens, don't let go of my hand_

_Whatever_ _Happens by Michael Jackson_

* * *

~*~

Once it had been established that Harry's injury was worse than they had thought, and once Jenna had assured her over and over again that they would not wake him up in the next twelve hours, she finally sat down. But never too long without some kind of visitor, Colette Badeau with Francis in tow entered into the room again.

"Good afternoon." She softly said and made sure to close the door behind them. She set down another basket of food and thermos of coffee. Francis was carrying the armful of flowers this time. Silently they summoned or conjured several crystal vases and continued to fill any ledge or counter with more of the fragrant and beautiful flowers. Guilt flowers. But nice ones nonetheless. Next they silently pulled all the food out of the basket, conjured two chairs to the right of her, and then passed down the plates of heavy and delicious looking French food.

"My Mother used to always say that food can heal anything." Francis said as he passed a small cup of coffee to her. She set the food down on her lap and sipped the strong, almost syrupy substance.

"So does mine." It came out scratchy and broken, betraying the toll the last day had taken on her.

"You should sleep. It will do 'Arry no good if you are dead on your feet." Colette commented to her.

"He did the same for me, I'm just returning the favor." She mumbled to her coffee, but it was clearly audible in the near silent room.

"Ah, your medical problems zis summer." Colette nodded and took a bite of food. "'Ee spoke of this, briefly. 'Ee was so worried 'ee could not sleep or eat 'ee told me. You could see zee anguish on 'ez face." Her warm hand landed on Ginny's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "I understand. _L'amour peut être si brutal parfois_."

"I guess." She shrugged. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, maybe it was that she had been living off of coffee alone for over a day, but she was starting to think she could understand French. "Maybe I should sleep, but I'm so worried they're going to come in and wake him up again. He's in too much pain to be awake for anything."

"Eat. It will help you regain your strength so you can stay awake." Francis told her bracingly. She was so startled to hear an adult tell her that she should continue to stay awake and fight the natural order of things that without thinking she laughed and said,

"Oh if the tabloids could see us now. Felicity Dagwood might explode from happiness."

"Oh zat woman!" Colette took in an enraged breath. "I 'ope she continues to 'ide out in England. If she ever comes to France I will 'ave 'er arrested. _Chienne stupide_!"

"My love." Francis quickly said, a hand resting on her thigh.

"Zat woman 'as given us nothing but trouble over zee past three weeks. She 'ounded us with 'er cameras and stories. I've been told she printed nothing but lies." Colette took a long drink of coffee, trying to calm herself.

"Pretty much." Ginny attempted the potatoes first. "It's been almost unbearable at school."

"Surely they've banned something as horrible as that?" Francis pierced her with a look of abject horror.

"Oh, it is very frowned upon, you're not supposed to be seen with them on school grounds, but they still pop up everywhere." She took another bite of potatoes. They were heavy on the butter and cream side; delicious.

"You poor girl." Colette squeezed her shoulder again and then they all fell silent, working on their food. She had managed to get the potatoes down, but that was as much as she could manage. Because of her hasty departure she had left everything at school. Any lingering effects from her potions had left her system. The lack of hunger she could deal with, it was the prospect of the missing sleeping draught that frightened her. When she did fall asleep, and she would eventually, she knew it would be a nightmare.

"Let us talk of something more pleasant. I have heard the name Weasley before. Do you have siblings?" Francis asked conversationally.

"Where should I start?' She took a long drink of coffee.

* * *

~*~

She was starting to get stir crazy, pacing the perimeter of the room over and over again. Harry continued to lie there, like he was dead, Mediwitches were coming in every few hours to check on him, she kept turning away food and sympathetic looks. Every once in a while she'd hear some kind of commotion out in the hallway, like someone was trying to get in but as soon as it started it was gone. And it was snowing. So much snow she was losing the ability to see anything out the windows but a flurry of white. It had been snowing at Hogwarts for weeks and freezing cold. The snow here seemed gentler somehow, almost like it would be a welcomed cold instead of the bone-chilling icicle the castle had become.

She was in desperate need of a change of clothes, her robes were wrinkled and starting to turn. She'd had to put her hair into a haphazard braid to hide all the tangles that were forming from napping in chairs. And Harry continued to lie there. It was far too surreal to be on the opposite side of this situation. She, most definitely, was not underestimating the significance of being here, but at the same time it almost didn't feel possible. It was only a few months ago that she was pretending to sleep in her own hospital bed, how quickly things had changed.

"Ginny?" Someone called out from the door and she looked up from her brooding stare out into the snow. Her chest hitched, her eyes filled with tears, and she gripped onto the ledge of the window to stop from sliding down the wall.

"Mum?"

"Oh honey, oh love, come here!" Her Mum covered the space of the room in a second, flinging her arms around her and holding her tight to her chest. Her Father silently picked up the other side, and they all held each other for a long time. She hadn't even realized she was crying until her Dad had pulled out a handkerchief and offered it to her.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize for crying, dear. This is quite a serious situation." He rubbed a soothing hand along her back.

"Have you been here all alone, this entire time?" Molly started drying off Ginny's face with her scarf, and pushing strands of unruly hair behind her ears.

"No, I'm never alone for very long. Other Aurors, Mediwitches, and the Badeau's are here a lot." She took a shaky breath.

"The who?" Arthur asked, pocketing his handkerchief.

"Colette and Francis Badeau?" Her Mum asked. She nodded. "Colette was working with Harry, dear." She said to her husband. "You look horrible Ginny."

"Thanks, Mum." She grumbled and then laughed, happy to have some normality around.

"Not to worry, I brought you some clothes from home, and toiletries and the like. Why don't you go freshen up, and we'll talk to the Healers. Don't worry, we're here now." She passed off a bag to her.

"They'll just tell you the same things they've been telling me. It was a horrible curse, they caught it very early, he is healing nicely, and he will be asleep for six more hours." She shifted the bag as she spoke.

"How do you know all this? Why were you asked here before us anyway?" Her Mum gave her a hard stare, but it was her Father's face that scared her.

"I…I'm Harry's guardian…his…what's the word?" She stuttered and looked at her Dad, knowing, somehow, that he already knew. She hadn't really questioned the fact that she was calling all the shots when it came to Harry. It seemed fitting, right, and everyone had treated her accordingly. But with her Mother's incredulous look, and her Father's worried glance she questioned it for the first time.

"Medical Proxy." He quietly said.

"What?" Her Mum snapped. "You're seventeen! How can you be named something that important? How could the hospital let this happen?"

"She is of age, and it is Harry's decision." Her Dad gave her the saddest look and she felt panic fill her chest.

"Arthur, surely you agree with me?"

"Why are you both so upset about this?" She said over her Mum.

"Do you think you're old enough to decide if Harry lives or dies? To decide if they should take off a leg or not? To decide if he should be kept in some kind of coma or not?" Her Mum sprouted off, flushing with her anger.

"But I've already done that. They wanted to wake him up. He was in too much pain, I told them to put him back under." She set the bag down on the floor, her fatigue catching up with her. "I'm just looking out for him, doing what he'd do for me. Why do you think I couldn't possibly handle that?"

"Ginny," her Mum grabbed both her arms and gave her a long look. "This is very serious. You have incredible power, and it appears that Harry didn't quite understand the gravity of that when he named you his Medical Proxy."

"He was well aware." Her Dad quietly said and they both snapped their heads toward him.

"Arthur?" Her Mum warned.

"He asked my advice. It was part of his Auror paperwork. Everyone has to name a Medical Proxy. He asked me whom he should name as his." He took a step back and leaned against Harry's bed.

"And what did you tell him?" Her Mum heatedly prodded.

"I told him to name the one person in the world he trusted most of all. The person he knew would always make the right choice no matter what. The person that would let him die if it came down to that."

She watched as her Dad swallowed hard and met her eyes again. The blood roared in her ears as his words settled in her brain. She took a deep breath and reached out a hand for the wall to keep herself upright. He trusted her most of all? Not Ron or Hermione? Not her parents? Without warning her brain flashed to the Room of Requirement, the ottoman, her finger tracing a lightning bolt across Neville's forehead. She felt sick.

"He thought Ginny was that person?" Her Mum shrieked, but her voice seemed very far away.

"Of course he did, Molly. He's in love with her." Her father's voice echoed in her brain.

"He's eighteen, Arthur. He doesn't know what he wants. There has to be some way to reverse this, some way to change it." Her Mum started to pace, the world started to spin around her. She got a flash of Neville in the doorway right before he left her with her betrayal. She fell against the wall. He trusted her with his secrets? With his life?

"There isn't. It's in his will. It is decided. He's made his choice." Her Father lowly finished.

She looked up at her Dad again and the room continued to spin. He trusted her. Maybe she should have read that entire will before she'd signed her name. The idea that it was her decision if he lived or died threw into sharp relief the severity of the situation. Regardless of what she'd said in the Room of Requirement, she was the one that had held his life in her hands for the past 24 hours. What if they hadn't caught the curse in time? What if they had given her a choice of life or death? She could have had to make that decision yesterday. Would she know what to do? Could she do it?

"Ginny. Ginny," her Mum shook her arm and the room stopped spinning. "Is there something you want to tell me? Is there something happening with you and Harry? Has something already happened that we didn't know about?"

"What?" She looked into her Mum's worried face. It quickly turned annoyed.

"Are you married? Did you marry him?"

"What?" She yelled out, wrenching her arm away. "Are you insane?"

"Why would he name you otherwise, unless you were his wife?" Her Mum countered.

"Molly." Her Dad tried to pacify the situation. It didn't help.

"Of course I'm not married! I'm seventeen!"

"Then why would he name you?" Her Mum demanded.

"I don't know." She moaned.

"You do. Just say it. You didn't question it when you signed the paper." Her Mum commanded.

"I didn't know what I was signing. I was still too shocked at what I was being willed, I should have finished reading the will but…"

"What did he leave you in his will?" Her Mum's voice raised an octave.

"I can't tell you." She grumbled.

"You will tell me!" Her Mum ordered, crossing her arms.

"Molly, you know she can't. It's part of the will signing." Her Dad interjected.

"Ginny," her Mum took a deep breath. "Ginny. It's okay if you did get married, just tell me."

"Harry trusts me. He's told me everything that happened, last year and all the years before that. Everything, Mum. We understand each other. Maybe that's why he chose me. Maybe he thinks that I will be strong enough to make the right choice for him. And I think he's right." She crossed her arms and looked around her Dad at Harry, who was still lying there, his chest rising and falling.

"You'd let him die?" Her Mum's eyes opened wide with horror.

"If it came to that. I wouldn't let him suffer. But he's not dying, he's just very ill." She broke her eyes away from his immobile body.

"But one day he will, Ginny." Her Mum's voice dropped down to a soft whisper. "One day you will get that owl, one day you will have to make that choice. Being an Auror increases his chances exponentially. Is that something you want? Is that a power you think you can handle? Is your love that strong?"

"I…" She started and then stopped. She should know this answer, it should have fallen off her tongue in an instant, but she faltered.

"This is going to continue to happen. Harry never does anything half way, love. You can't change who he is. Giving you this power is as good as proposing to you, maybe that's why I think you're married."

"I do love him." She said to the silent room. "You know that."

"Of course I do. But do you love him enough? Do you love him as deeply as he seems to love you?" Her Mum continued. She looked away from her soft and pleading face and toward her Father. He had his blue eyes trained on her, waiting her response just as eagerly. She leaned against the wall and looked out the window into all the snow. She didn't know the answer. She loved him; of that much she was certain. She loved him so much that her heart would actually hurt in her chest sometimes. But her parents had both looked at her with doubt. Did they know something she didn't? There was a sharp knock on the door and Jenna walked in quickly after.

"Just here to check up on him. My shift is over in an hour. Has there been any change Miss Weasley?" She brightly asked as she stuck a silver strip to his forehead.

"No." Ginny quietly said. Her Mum and Dad silently moved toward the empty chairs that Colette and Francis had left and sat down.

"I know there are six hours left on his sleeping draught, but I would like to wake him again to see the progress. We changed the bandages a few hours ago and it seems that everything is starting to scab. He's stopped bleeding, it might benefit us to have him awake." Jenna commented as she scratched things down onto his chart and looked at the roll of parchment.

"But you said he could sleep the entire twelve hours." She sighed and ran a hand across her forehead. "What could he possibly tell you, other than he's in pain?"

"He might not be anymore. That's the point." Jenna pulled the strip off his forehead to show a deep purple. "Once the bleeding stops he's half way to healed. But it is your decision." Jenna finished in a serious tone. She looked down at Harry's face. His eyelids were still the purple-blue of exhaustion, his face white and chalky.

"No. Three more hours." She ordered, not looking up.

"Alright." Jenna said in a strained voice. She picked up her clipboard and quickly left the room, revealing her Mum and Dad watching her with serious faces.

"Could you stay with him while I change?" Her voice cracked as she said it. "They try to sneak in here and wake him up if I don't stay."

"Of course." Her Dad nodded and put a hand on her Mum as if to stop any kind of comment that might pop up.

"Thanks." She leaned down and picked up the bag and went into the private bathroom.

* * *

~*~

"Fleur is having such a hard time, it is a shame. I've never seen morning sickness last this long." Her Mum commented as she knitted a large blanket of girly pink. Ginny just snuggled deeper down into the chair. Her Mum had brought her the biggest and warmest jumper she owned. It had been a bad day when she'd gone tearing through her trunk only to remember that she'd left it in the other stack. The dark blue cowl-necked wool hung even baggier on her because of the recent weight loss. She also had jeans and trainers. Her hair was brushed and up in a ponytail, and her teeth were clean. She kept fighting the edge of sleep, watching the clock. The Mediwitches would be back soon.

It was the first time she'd felt safe enough to sleep in Harry's room, and she still couldn't do it. Even Jenna had proven to be on the slightly sadistic side. She wondered if Harry had to fight as much with the Mediwitches when she was here. A giant yawn escaped her and she rubbed her eyes.

"You should sleep." Her Father rumbled next to her. She still couldn't meet either of their eyes. She still had not answered their questions, and more importantly she didn't know the answers herself. How could you even gauge if you loved someone more then they loved you? How was being named his Medical Proxy proving he loved her more? It was far too complicated and layered for her sleep deprived mind to figure out at the moment. All she knew was that she had to stay awake so she could protect him. That was all that mattered right now. They could sort out the rest later.

"Not tired."

"You were never a good enough liar to fool me." Mr. Weasley chuckled. "I picked these up for you before we left." He handed over a large stack of letters.

"Why did they go to you?" She struggled to sit up and grab them.

"You can't receive anything here on this floor. Even all the bags are checked. I'm sure all your friend's birds are exhausted, having to fly from Hogwarts to here and then to the Burrow."

She looked over the stack and started to separate them out. Ron and Hermione had both sent her two, Neville had also managed two, Luna, Dean, and Seamus each had a single letter. She was sure all they were asking was if Harry was okay, and she didn't even know that. She set them on the small table and cuddled back down into her chair.

"It's rude not to answer them." Her Mum commented.

"I've got nothing to say." She yawned again. Before another retort could come the door opened to reveal a different group of Mediwitches and a man this time, right on schedule.

"Hello. We've come to check his progress." The man with short black hair and too white teeth said. She shot up out of her chair and put a hand over Harry's own.

"Who are you? I haven't seen you before." She gave him a wary look.

"Ginny." Her Mum admonished.

"It's perfectly alright." The man pulled out his hospital identification card and passed it over to her. She took a long look at it, Mitchell Tesler, Healer, and then gave it back. "I was the Healer that was on call when he was first admitted. I've been off until today, and I wanted to see if the new technique we used helped him heal faster. Matilda, if you'll just remove the bandages."

Ginny felt funny about letting go, but she released her hold on his hands and stood back, but only a little bit. Matilda pulled down his sheet and with her wand started to cut back the bandages. She felt her parents stand up behind her. The Mediwitch pulled the bandages back and her Mum let out a noise of discomfort as she moved closer to the bed.

"They look so much better!" Ginny exclaimed and looked up at Mitchell Tesler. Still red and angry looking, three scars ripped across Harry's torso, but they were no longer bleeding and were starting to heal. It was the first sign of actual progress.

"That's better?" Her Mum whispered behind her and she felt a hand come down on her shoulder.

"Now, I know you've had some resistance to waking him up, but now might be the time. We need to make sure everything is still in working order so to speak. I promise you, if he is in too much pain we will put him back under. But there will be some pain." Healer Tesler said, his hand resting on the rail, his fingers tapping along the metal.

"Wake him up." She said and took a deep breath. Without another word the Healer murmured the spells and Harry started to stir. Instead of the shaking, flopping hand that she was used to his face crunched up, and then he cracked open his left eye.

"Ginny?" He rasped.

"I'm here, Harry." She grabbed his hand, and he opened his other eye, still wincing against the lights in the room. "They're just going to check you, and then you can go back to sleep."

"Mr. Potter, how are you feeling?" Tesler asked as he lit his wand and took a closer look.

"Pretty bad." He sighed and closed his eyes. Tesler started poking him with his fingers around the wounds.

"Can you feel that?"

"Yeah." He ground out through his teeth, clamping down on her hand so hard she thought her fingers might break. She bit her lip to betray any kind of pain; it was probably nothing in comparison to what Harry was feeling. Tesler nodded and then continued to look around the wounds, poking and prodding, Harry hissing and gasping, her fingers turning blue.

"Looks great. Healing better than I expected. We'll just wrap you back up to keep everything sterile. Matilda has brought the usual cocktail. We get those three back in your system and check on you in a few more hours." Tesler gave Harry's shoulder a pat and then nodded to them all and left.

"If you could just help me sit him up." Matilda said distractedly as she set all her things down. With her free hand she slid her arm under Harry's neck and as slowly and gently as she could started to lift him with the Mediwitch. He squeezed her hand harder, her fingers felt like they were about to pop off and she winced.

"Almost there." She whispered. Once he was sitting up Matilda let go and made quick work of re-bandaging him. They slowly lowered him back down, and his hand suddenly let go. "Harry?"

"I think he passed out." Matilda observed as she secured the bandages. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, his skin still chalky and pale, and his breath was coming out slow and strong.

"Maybe we'll hold off on the Draught of Living Death, then." She told the woman. The Mediwitch nodded, pried open Harry's mouth and poured the pain potion and Blood-Replenishing potion in, gathered all her things, and left without ever looking back.

"The poor dear." Her Mum cooed and quickly moved around to the other side and started dabbing at his forehead with a tissue. "Did they tell you the curse, Ginny? Do you know what they are treating him for?"

"No." She sighed and leaned against the bed massaging her fingers.

"Arthur, let's go talk to the staff, see if there is anything else we can do." Her Mum gave Harry's arm a squeeze and she was left alone again. She continued to lean against the bed and watched her fingers turn from blue to red to white, when he stirred a second time.

"Ginny?"

"I'm here." Her hand was instantly forgotten, but the room swayed a bit with her quick reaction. She needed to sleep. He winced as he moved a bit on the bed, still keeping his eyes closed.

"How long?"

"Almost two days." She smoothed her hand down his arm.

"Colette?" He settled back down, his face relaxing.

"She's fine. She brought you here. They got the Death Eater. You're the worst off…again." She sighed and brushed some hair out of his face. He cracked open his eyes and searched her face, still obviously in pain. "Sleep, Harry."

"Thank you." He mumbled and fell back asleep, the grimace of pain lifting from his face. The pain potion must have kicked in. She bit her lip hard to stop the flood of tears that threatened to come out, and lowly whispered,

"No problem."

* * *

~*~

_She stood at the point where the ocean met the sand and looked out over the vastness of it. The water was lapping at her feet, soaking the bottom of her dress as it softly billowed in the light wind. The sky was dark blue, almost cobalt, not a single cloud in sight. She could hear the noises from the far off pier, and the melodic rhythm of the ocean at her feet. Peaceful. It was quite peaceful, a big departure from what she had been dreading. _

_ Then she saw him, just a few yards away. His black hair was whipping around in the wind; he raised his arms above his head and waved at her. Picking up the soaked folds of her grey dress she started to walk toward him, but she made no progress. She tried jogging toward him, his arms getting more urgent in their calling; still he continued to evade her. She bunched the dress up and tried to run, but the scene around her stayed exactly the same. Harry continued to wave at her, and then suddenly stopped and started pointing and shouting. Muted shouts. She glanced to her right and gasped. Tripping over her dress she hit the sand, the water thundered toward her, she could feel the spray from the coming wall. It roared in her ears and she covered her face as it went in for the kill._

_ It was only then that his voice broke through. "Ginny."_

She woke up with a start, flinging her arms out to stop the water, and opening her eyes to see the dimly lit room. She was panting, close to hyperventilation, her pulse pounding and loud, the wool started to feel itchy against all the sweat the nightmare had produced.

"Ginny?"

She looked over at his bed and let out a small noise in her throat, confused.

"Am I still dreaming? Is this the nightmare?" She asked Harry. He shook his head no. "So you're real?"

"Last time I checked." Harry said in a muted voice. She took a deep breath and stood up from the chair, adjusting her itchy jumper. He was awake, but he didn't look happy about it. His eyes watched her every move as she moved toward him. Bandages were still wrapped around his chest, and he had been propped up into a sitting position on the bed, the blankets and sheets covering his lap.

"You alright?" She moved to the edge of the bed and grabbed his hand. "Want some water? Food? Potions?"

"No." He squeezed her hand and she looked at his face. There was some color returning to his cheeks, although his eyes were still glassy and bruised looking.

"How long was I asleep for?" She looked up at the clock.

"Couple of hours." He said and then coughed. It was dry and hacking. Instantly she flicked her wand summoning the water over and held out a cup.

"Drink it."

"Not thirsty." He coughed again.

"Humor me." She pushed it into his hand and he tipped it back. "Was that hard?"

"No." He closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillows, letting out a long sigh. "You said I was out for two days. How long have you been here?"

"Two days." She played with his fingers.

"You should sleep, Ginny. I've bet you've been awake the whole time." He sighed and cracked open his eyes again.

"Sleep is for the weak. I've been napping. I'm here to protect you from those sadistic Mediwitches." She glared at the door, thinking of them and their incessant pestering. "Where are my parents?"

"Left about an hour ago. They told me they'll come back later on in the evening and try to take you home so you can sleep in a real bed." He tangled up their fingers.

"I'd like to see them try. It will be a lost cause." She laughed a little and bent down to press her lips to the top of his hand.

"The Mediwitches can't be that bad." Harry tugged her hand. She sat down on the bed next to him, near his thighs, leaning over his legs so they were face to face.

"Even Jenna has surprised me. It appears we both need bodyguards." She gave him a bright smile.

"Has your mouth been getting you into trouble again?" He lowly asked, closing his eyes and leaning back.

"Always." She smiled and went to move back off the bed, and let him sleep. His hand flung out and grabbed at the first thing he could find; her jumper. "Harry?"

"Stay." He pleaded, his eyes dark and worried.

"I'm not going anywhere. Just that chair." She pointed to it.

"Stay here. Close." He tugged her jumper, and with a grimace shifted over in the bed to make room for her.

"Maybe that's not such a good idea." She warned, staying in place despite his increased tugging on her jumper.

"I've been waiting for this moment for weeks, Ginny." He said in a low and sleepy voice. "I'm not going to let a hospital bed stop me now."

With one final tug she moved carefully across the space and squeezed herself up against the railing and Harry. She made sure to stay far as she could away from his side. Her ponytail fell across her neck and spilled onto the bed, and his fingers wrapped around the ends of it immediately. She was close enough to tell that his skin was still clammy looking, but far enough away that she wasn't afraid she'd hurt him. Harry let out a giant sigh, wrapped his fingers tighter around her hair, and instantly fell asleep.

She looked at his face for a long time trying, like he did so often, to memorize the moment. But she didn't see things the way Harry did. She'd remember the feelings of this moment, the whole picture of these days, the way the snow hung on the windows and the room smelled of spring. The horrible images of his broken body and his troubled sleeping face would fade. What she would remember would be the snow, and the bright burst of flowers, and being terrified at how close she came to losing him again.

* * *

~*~

"Rise and shine! I brought breakfast!"

Her eyes snapped open and she fought the urge to move. Subconsciously she knew she was still right next to Harry, and then the physical reminders set in. Her body ached from pressing so hard against the railing of his bed, her shoulders and back were throbbing, her neck had a horrible knot in it, and the wool jumper and a blanket of hair over her neck all night was making her body feel like it was on fire with the itching. It hadn't been a very restful sleep, but one look at Harry and she knew it was worth it. He looked tremendously better. Maybe sleeping next to him had nothing to do with it, but he finally looked at peace. Eyes no longer looking exhausted and bruised, a deep flush of red on his cheeks, and his body radiating heat.

"Up. Up. Let's go." Her Mum commanded again and she carefully pried his fingers out of her hair. He was still dead asleep. She gently and slowly pushed up.

"You don't have to be so loud." She grumbled.

"They gave him his Draught of Living Death around four this morning. The Mediwitches were already in and checked his bandages. It seems he healed up quite nicely over the night. We came back to get you around midnight, but you were finally sleeping. And he asked to have you stay." Her Mum gave her a very mischievous smile.

"He was awake?" She stood up and her back let out a loud pop, she grabbed the railing on his bed for support.

"Yes. Just watching you sleep. The Mediwitch tried to get him to take another draught but he refused it. I guess they managed to convince him later on that night." Her Mum was dishing out heaping plates of food on the only speck of counter that wasn't covered in flowers. The door opened to reveal her Dad next; he was carrying the morning paper and a thermos.

"Morning love. How'd you sleep?" He brightly asked.

"Horrible. Is that coffee?" She pointed toward the mug and then stretched out her aching shoulders.

"No." He chuckled and set it down next to the building pile of breakfast. She moved toward the counter and quickly poured herself a cup anyway. Tea would have to do. She quickly threw back the first cup.

"What day is it?" She poured herself a second cup.

"Friday. We've been talking with Minerva all morning. She said you can take the rest of the weekend off if you'd like due to the severity of the situation. Hermione will have all the assignments you missed." Her Mum turned and placed a heavy plate of food into her free hand. "Eat up, you look like a bean stalk."

"I'm not very hungry." She set the plate back down.

"I've talked to the Mediwitches, Ginny. You've been living off of coffee alone. He's out of danger now, you can sleep. Caffeine is not food." She scolded and shoved the plate back into her hands. She silently nodded and sat down in one of the chairs to begin to pick at it.

"They said, barring some unforeseen problem, he should be released tomorrow morning. He's still on a mandatory week of leave after an injury like that. We've owled Ron, he's taking time off from the shops to stay home and watch over him. Well, as much as you can watch over Harry." Her Dad said to the paper and then picked up a scone.

"Of course I'll be there as well, often." Her Mum added. "So you don't need to worry, love. You can just go back to school today and everything will be fine."

"Today?" She looked up from her coffee.

"Of course. You're taking such a heavy load you need to get back, catch up this weekend. The end of term is fast approaching, and you need to keep your grades up." Her Mum turned and gave her a big smile, all she felt was mutinous.

"I'd like to go back on Sunday. I want to stay until he's discharged."

"Ginny," her Mum gave her another soft look, like it would melt her resolve.

"Mum." She narrowed her eyes. The paper rustled between them, and then the door opened.

"_Bonjour_, Ginny." Colette's voice entered the room before she did. "Oh, excuse me."

"It's okay, Colette. This is my Mum and Dad, Molly and Arthur." Ginny set the plate of food back down, but kept the cup of tea as she stood to usher her into the room.

"Pleasure to meet you." Colette stuck her hand out and Molly instantly took it.

"Mrs. Badeau?"

"Please, call me Colette."

Ginny left them to their pleasantries and gossip about her and Harry that was sure to start up and moved back over to his bed. He was still shifted to one side of the bed, propped up in a sitting position, with steady breaths coming in and out of his chest. She reached over and pushed an unruly piece of hair off his forehead, and then touched his deeply blushed cheeks. He was so red it looked like he'd been outside in the horrible weather, or had a fever. She checked his forehead, but he was fine, and she let out a relieved breath. She brushed his cheek again and he cracked open his eyes, deep emerald green.

"Hi."

"You're supposed to be sleeping." She whispered back, and ran her fingers through his hair. He turned his head and kissed her arm, and a smile blossomed from her chest to her lips. The conversation between the adults stuttered to a stop in the back of her head and she looked up. They were all looking at her and Harry, her Mum and Collette's eyes glassy with tears. Her Dad cleared his throat and lowly said,

"Why don't we continue this in the hallway?"

They emptied out of the room and she couldn't resist another run through his short hair, she hadn't had time to admire it properly before he left. She set the cup of tea down on the table by his bed. So close, he had come so close to death again. She almost felt hysterical at the relief that was washing through her now. He looked like Harry again. After a moment she took a labored breath and lowly asked,

"Why did you name me as your Proxy?" She started and pulled her hand away.

"That was in the will. I thought you knew." He grimaced a little as he moved around. "This time I was in a position that called for your arrival."

"Harry." She dropped her head, exasperated and exhausted at this point.

"I thought this was what you wanted? I thought you wanted to be here." He continued on in a soft and slightly raspy voice.

"How could you know I'd make the right choices?"

"Ginny, you already did." He quickly countered.

"What if you were dying? Did you think I'd be the only one who could let you go?" She felt a wave of weariness pulse through her.

"Ginny," he cleared his throat and paused. "You already did."

She was flooded with the memory. The folding chairs, the white coffin, the weeping and crying echoing off the lake on the grounds, his face as he told her they had to break up, that she had to let him go. That she had to let him leave, possibly to never come back. Even then she'd known it would rip her apart, but if it was what he wanted, if it was what was right then she'd do it. She'd take the pain.

"I guess you're right." She choked a little on the words.

"You were the only one. Ron and Hermione chased after me." He stretched out his hand and grabbed the baggy sleeve of her jumper.

"That's different."

"No it's not. Not when it really comes down to it." He tugged her closer and she pressed up against the railing, looking down at his face.

"Surely I'm not the only one that listens and follows your directions." She grumbled.

"You're the only one I listen to." He smiled.

"My Mum nearly had a Kneazle when she found out." She hung her hands over the railing; he reached up for one of them.

"Sorry about that." He laced their fingers together.

"Any other surprises you have in store for me?" She teased.

"Not that I can remember." He rumbled and squeezed her hand.

"They want to send me home today. I told them Sunday." She quietly said.

"Sunday is better." He quickly agreed, nodding his head.

"Not like I want to go back." She looked off into the snow filled windows.

"Too many assignments?"

"Just be glad that you didn't go back." She gave him a meaningful look.

"It can't be that bad. There's no one there trying to kill me." He let out a tiny laugh.

"Not funny." She pulled her hand out of his and stood back up, straightening her sweater. "They seem to be doing a good job of it outside of Hogwarts."

"Ginny." He teased and held the silence between them until she looked back down. Brilliant, stunning, vibrant green met her and she felt her temper subside a bit.

"Assignments and practice I can deal with. It's all the tabloids." She finished in a whisper, feeling a weight lift off her chest as she said it.

"I've heard." He darkly responded. "I'm sorry you have to do this alone. It's just been too dangerous to write, and you knew nothing was going on, nothing will ever come between us." He frowned a little as he reached back up to take her hand. His rough and calloused fingers brushed across her palm and she bit her lip, a jolt of worry pulsed through her chest, she ignored it.

"I know." She looked down at their hands. "I guess it hasn't been too bad."

"I'm sure it was, and I'm sorry." He ran his thumb across the top of her hand.

"Neville's gotten really good at turning them into instant ash." She smiled at him, and felt his hand falter. He paused for a moment, swallowed, and then slowly nodded at her. The worry exploded in her chest again. "What?"

"Wonderful, you're awake. We need to run some tests Miss Weasley. If you can just give us a few moments." Tesler and Jenna both entered the room, the usual group of Mediwitches flanking them. It almost felt like a victory lap, they didn't need her consent anymore. She gave Harry another look, meaning to gauge if he wanted them here or not, but his face told another story.

The happy, slightly drugged, and melting smile he'd had for her just breaths ago had vanished, his eyes cold and distant, and his face a mask of what she'd seen before the wedding last year. Some mix between anxiety and martyrdom. She turned and walked away.

* * *

~*~

It was when she nodded off in the hallway for the third time amidst the bustling hospital business around her that she thought maybe she should find a bed. She didn't want to leave the hospital, she didn't want to go home, and she most definitely didn't want to go back to Hogwarts, so she had just continued to sleep in the hallway.

"Ginny?" Someone asked and she ignored them. Said person kicked her chair and she snapped open her eyes, annoyed. "Oi, I've come to collect you."

"Didn't know the Grim would come in the form of my annoying brother." She grumbled and sat back up.

"Harry owled me, said he was going to be busy until they discharged him, and to take you back to the flat. Unless you wanted to stay with Mum." He crossed his arms.

"Do I actually have a choice?" She looked up at him in the harsh light of the cramped hallway. People were rushing back and forth, notes transfigured into paper airplanes were fluttering around, and a janitor was mopping the slick floors.

"Do you want to wait around to find out? She's talking with every single Mediwitch that so much as looked at Harry and sending owls to everyone we've ever known that Harry's alive. I don't think she'll care once you're sleeping." Ron stuck out his hand and she grabbed it. "Let's go say goodbye and get out of here, hospitals give me the creeps."

They walked around the corner, back into the darkened hallway and pushed open the second door on the left. Mediwitches were still poking at him, Kingsley and Colette were talking around him, and Harry was nodding and grimacing at it all. Ron waved his hands above his head, Harry's head poked up, he pointed down at her, Harry nodded and then went right back into his business.

She tried not to feel stung, but something had changed and she was too tired to figure it out. She blindly shuffled along into the room she had first Flooed into, wrapped herself around Ron, and went shooting up into the network. He led her toward Harry's room, shoved her toward the bed, pulled off her shoes, and threw the comforter over her quite unceremoniously.

"Not another peep out of you. Your job is done now. I'll be back in twelve hours." He shook a warning finger at her and closed the door. She sank into the grey and gave into oblivion.

* * *

~*~

_She was only at the ocean for a moment. Grey and airy clouds hung low on the horizon, the waves soft and low, the tide far out, exposing shells and rocks along the beach. With a look to her left she was suddenly back in her room at the Burrow, pathetically skinny, and pretending to sleep. It was dusk, her walls a dusty pink color, and horribly humid. She could tell that the air was thick and wrapping around her like a blanket, but she still wasn't sweating. She sat up in her bed and heard some shuffling right outside her door._

_ "Harry, can't you talk to her? Get her to at least try to start her life again? Get her to understand how badly this is hurting her family?" Hermione pleaded._

_ "What do you want me to say, Hermione?" He whispered. _

_ "I don't know. She doesn't cry around you." Hermione started but was quickly cut over._

_ "She cries around me plenty."_

_ "Ron is distraught. I think he was actually crying about it yesterday, but he told me he had some dust in his eye." Hermione's voice pressed closer to the door. "She listens to you Harry. You have to try and fix this."_

_ The room shifted around in the dying light, and felt her body move, separate from the girl on the bed and float up into the air. Her current self, landed upon her desk and looked upon her former self, still sitting up in bed. It was a pitiful site to behold. She hadn't realized just how bad she had looked this summer. Summer Ginny continued to look forward at the closet, half listening, half wallowing in her own self-made despair._

_ "She really shouldn't have said that." She felt her current self say out loud in the room. Summer Ginny looked right at her with hallow, haunted eyes and murmured,_

_ "It would have been so different if she hadn't." She lifted a pale, bony hand and poised her fingers to snap. "Watch." The snap came loud and quickly and the door opened to her Mum._

_ "Hi, love." She started talking as she brought in clothes and food and medicine. "Lovely day today, seems like the summer is going to continue to last well into the school year. Everyone left on the train yesterday; I spoke with your friends, Neville and Luna. They were sad you wouldn't be making it." Her Mum talked as she set up the clothes and food on the bed and small side table. Next her Mum grabbed the medicine and then grabbed Summer Ginny's jaw and forced the potion down without much of a struggle. "Think you have anything to say today, Ginny? One word? Any word?"_

_ Her Mum's voice broke off, defeated. Then she picked up the edge of her nightgown and pulled it up over Summer Ginny's head. Sickly, orange hair fell over her shoulders hiding the beige bra she was wearing. Summer Ginny locked eyes with her current self again and snapped her fingers once,_

_ "Or this."_

_Everything shimmered away to an empty room. This time the bedroom door opened to Ron and Hermione coming into the room with boxes. Silently and slowly they packaged up everything there. Their phantom hands slipping right through her current self still perched on the desk. Ron stopped for a moment and his shoulders bent and hitched._

_ "Oh, Ron." Hermione rushed to his side and pulled him into a bracing hug._

_ "I can't do this. Not again. Not so soon." He sobbed and sobbed into Hermione's hair._

_ "She's at peace now, Ron." Hermione stroked his back and shoulders, streams of tears running down her face as well. She reached out to them, her vaporous hand sinking right through as they both slowly slid to the floor weeping and clinging to each other._

_ "Or this." Another loud snap cleared the room and she watched as Summer Ginny lied back down and stared up at the ceiling. Harry, long haired and brutal looking bursted into the room. His clothes were dirty; his skin was covered in scratches and bruises. Hermione and Ron bustled in after him, both looking tired and worn out._

_ "Germany? Romania?" Ron was asking after him._

_ "Russia." Harry absently answered and looked down at Summer Ginny who continued to look up at the ceiling. "Is that all she ever does?"_

_ "Now. Ever since you left." Hermione quietly said. The room filled with an awkward silence._

_ "I waited as long as I could." Harry slowly said. He bent toward the bed and ran a dirty hand over hers for a moment. "We all did."_

_ "Healer's say she won't snap out of it. She might never." Ron's voice cracked with emotion. Harry abruptly stood and looked at them both. Summer Ginny's head turned and looked at her again, with dark searching eyes._

_ "Or this." She snapped and it echoed in her mind. The room spun into a gray haze and then filled with bright summer light and music from the wireless. Summer Ginny looked vibrant and extremely well. She danced around her room, hanging clothes, and cleaning up._

_ "Ginny!" A male voice called from downstairs and Summer Ginny smiled to herself. From the desk her current self watched as Summer Ginny fixed her hair and then moved toward her bedroom door. It shot open and Summer Ginny was swept up into a spinning hug, followed by a very private and searing kiss. The action was so quick she felt her current self shift on the desk to get a better look. Summer Ginny's long red hair swished away to reveal Neville, and all the breath left her chest._

_ "Hi, love." He smiled at her._

_ "Where have you been? You said two." She gave him a playful smack and squirmed out of his hands._

_ "Busy day. So what's the word?" Neville lounged back on her bed, as if he belonged there._

_ "Ron and George are still mucking it up in the shop. Hermione's going to be working late tonight at the Ministry. Mum and Dad are doing their normal things." Summer Ginny turned toward her closet and pulled out a jacket. She tossed it to the desk and it went through her current self, still sputtering and holding her breath._

_ "And Harry?" Neville gave her a brilliant smile. Summer Ginny sauntered over and straddled Neville on the bed._

_ "Harry's doing what Harry does best." She smiled at him. "Fighting evil."_

_ "And I'm a lucky man for it." Neville murmured and pulled her forward onto him and his wanting lips. She felt herself shudder, then gasp, and finally build up a gag before the room started to spin and Summer Ginny looked over her shoulder, as Neville's lips kissed along her collarbone and told her, with haunted eyes,_

_ "All because of something that shouldn't have been said."_

She woke up thrashing around in grey. Pounding away at it like it was suffocating her until she saw blurry moonlight. Panting and sweating she climbed out of the bed and looked around the room. There was some faint talking in the living room, but it could have been the wireless. Her body felt like it was on fire, she ripped off the sweater, looked for a moment at her bare red skin, and then went searching around in Harry's drawers for a shirt. All she could find was a horribly clashing orange Cannons shirt. She threw it over her head and took a very cleansing breath.

"What was that about?" She muttered to herself. She didn't know if that conversation between Hermione and Harry had ever actually taken place. Either it had been blacked out during her zombie days, or her subconscious was trying desperately to tell her something. Something she obviously could see now. Between the flashes of the Room of Requirement, and the uneasy feeling that she's gotten around Harry right before she left the hospital, this was about Neville. She needed to talk to Harry, make him understand that it just wasn't like that. She knew that Neville liked her, but all her love had gone to Harry a long, long time ago. She took another breath and moved toward the door, she needed some water.

Every light in the house was on, and Ron was standing over the couch grinning and whispering to someone laying down on it.

"Hey?" She called out and Ron looked over as Hermione's head poked up from the couch.

"Ginny!" Hermione shouted and jumped up to her feet, quickly crossing the room and pulling her into a bear hug.

"Ouch!" She laughed and was promptly set back down.

"I can't even imagine what you've been through. I'm so sorry you had to do this all alone. Medical Proxy? A Dark curse? You met Colette Badeau? What a crazy few days for you!" Hermione hugged her again and she wrapped her arms around her as well.

"Thanks." She pulled away from Hermione and stretched out her shoulders.

"You only slept for about six hours. Maybe you should just eat something and go back to bed." Ron's said as he moved toward them.

"What day is it? What time is it?" She yawned.

"Still Friday," Ron laughed, "ten in the evening. So you need to eat something and get some more sleep." Ron moved around Hermione and grabbed her arm yanking her toward the kitchen.

"Stop," she whined and pulled her arm out of his grasp. "Where's Harry?"

"Still at the hospital. They won't release him until tomorrow morning." Hermione said behind her as they all settled in the kitchen and Ron started banging away at some pots and pans.

"But he's alright?" She leaned against the counter.

"Harry will be Harry." Hermione laughed and started to help Ron make some food. Her nightmare flashed quickly across her mind and she quietly retorted,

"So I've heard."

* * *

~*~

Author's Notes:  
Many many thanks going out to TOW Gunner and the infinite patents he bestows upon me.

Also a huge shout out to Sirusly Siriused! For all my French reviewers Sirusly Siriused was kind enough to correct all my horrible translations from the last chapter and this one. So if you were confused, take a second peek!

And to all my wonderful reviewers! I've heard your pleas! Bare with me!


	25. Chapter 25

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 25~

_I've seen your flag on the Marble Arch_

_Love is not a victory march_

_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_

_Hallelujah by John Cale_

* * *

~*~

Ginny swore that Ron had secretly drugged her food because as soon as it hit her stomach her eyes drooped and she made a quick retreat back to Harry's bed. She curled up on the far side, her side, and felt as if she closed her eyes and rolled over into a very real dream. She snuggled down against something very warm and comfortable, and threw an arm and a leg over the object, burying her head against the wall of heat. A hand started rubbing up and down her back and she felt herself smile against fabric and lavender laundry soap. The room started to come into focus through her closed eyes, sunlight and freezing cold were fighting for her attention, but the warmth and comfort kept pulling her back toward sleep. The covers shifted a little bit, and the hand ran over her knotted braid, than he exhaled. She smiled again and a familiar voice whispered,

"Are you awake now?"

"No." She whispered back.

"Okay." He laughed softly and continued to play with her braid.

"Is this a dream?" She asked the fabric and rubbed her face against it.

"Only if you want it to be." The voice rumbled low and deep in his chest, and then stopped to be replaced by the steady beating of his heart. She felt the edges of sleep coming back to claim her from the quiet, golden, snuggly morning she could have been having and didn't fight it. Then a pan dropped in the kitchen and Hermione started laughing.

"You should get rid of your flatmates." She grumbled and squinted before she opened her eyes. Harry laughed,

"We're kind of a package deal."

"Are you trying to say that even when you're married and have children Ron and Hermione will still be mucking up a perfectly good morning for you?" She looked up into his face. Harry thought about it for a second, a small smile played across his lips, and bright bottle green eyes looked away from her face for a moment, then he shook his head.

"No, I don't think my wife would like that."

"Damn right." She grumbled, knowing no woman in her right mind would want Ron and Hermione in their home at all times. Suddenly she was rolling and laughing, as his hands ran up and down her body and he showered her with soft and lingering kisses. "Was it something I said?" She laughed against his lips.

"You could say that." He whispered into her mouth and then kissed her again. She melted into the bed and onto his hands as they worked their way up and down her body over her clothes. She stuck out a palm to steady herself and it landed on springy gauze.

"Oh, sorry." She stopped and pulled away, her mind slowly de-fuzzing. Harry rolled onto his back and she sat up in the sea of blankets and sheets and took a good look at him. Happy, he looked so happy, and yet the thick pads of gauze were making large bumps along his t-shirt. He tucked his hands behind his head and nodded once at her,

"Go ahead."

Slowly and cautiously she lifted the edge of his shirt and started to push it up his body, all the way up to his collarbones. She looked it over at first, under his collarbone on the right side, left ribs right near his heart, and right at his stomach were the taped down patches of hospital grade gauze. She sneaked a look back up at him and was met with serious dark green and a line of lips. She picked at the hospital tape on the gauze near his heart and it pulled away to show off a deep and healing, angry, red scar.

"More scars." She sighed at the long red line. Quickly she covered it back up and pulled his shirt back down, staring through the layers to where she knew his newest near death experience was now healing.

"I thought girls liked scars." He said, and she looked up through her lashes at him.

"Not all girls."

"So you don't like me anymore?" He trained his eyes upon her, even though his tone was playful.

"I don't like your scars."

"All my scars?" He absently ran a hand over his forehead. Without thinking, without hesitation, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to the faded red lightning bolt.

"Not all of them." She whispered against it, and then pulled back. "More what they represent."

"My cunning and daring newsworthy tales?" He grinned.

"Your flash judgments and death wishes." She gave him a stern look. Ron let out a string of cuss words amidst Hermione's pealing laughter in the kitchen and she sighed at the wall. "I have to go back."

"I know." He reached toward her and she fell back onto the bed against his side, careful not to press too hard. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

"It looks like it does." She looked up at him.

"I've had worse." He said to the wall and they both fell silent. Despite the closeness, despite the slowly simmering need to have his hands all over her body again, something felt very off. A distance was growing between them, and she had a feeling if it wasn't addressed it would only get worse.

"Is everything okay?" She quietly asked.

"Now it is." He wrapped his arm around her, squeezing her tight against his side.

"With us. Is everything okay with us?" She looked over at him and held her breath.

"Why wouldn't it be?" He swallowed hard.

"At the hospital," she paused and focused on the wall in front of them, her stomach starting to churn with worry. "You just, you looked at me…" She dropped off. She knew what she needed to say, but the words got jumbled in her brain.

"I looked at you how?" It rumbled in his chest as he stared at the wall as well, not even glancing at her out of his peripheral vision.

"Maybe I was just seeing things." She mumbled to herself, her heart started thumping wildly in her chest.

"You weren't." He whispered. She finally turned to face him, and Harry frowned and looked down at his hands. "I did."

"Harry, why? Why can't you believe that nothing is going to happen with Neville? I don't like him like that." She pressed her lips together tightly.

"What happened in the Room of Requirement?" He quietly asked, still looking at his hands. Her wild heart froze in her chest.

"Who told you about that?" She choked.

"Does it even matter?" He finally looked up, and his eyes bore down into her. "Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"I didn't know where you were! It's not like I can send you a letter, it will give away your position. And then I was called to the hospital. You were unconscious! I was fighting off Mediwitches who wanted to torture you." She quickly answered.

"Don't be dramatic, Ginny. Why didn't you tell me?" He commanded. She saw it in his eyes; the desperation, the anxiety, the rising anger. She shrunk back a bit on the bed, awaiting the explosion.

"I was going to." She said in a tiny voice.

"Why don't I believe you? What the hell happened in there?" Harry took a big breath and held it, locking her to the bed with his carefully controlled face. She could tell he was trying so hard not to explode on her, but he was getting dangerously close. Only hours ago she had been planning on telling him, after that dream she knew she needed to come clean. But the agonized look on his face made her brain flutter with thought for a moment. It must look horrible to him; her and Neville sneaking into the Room of Requirement, together. She quickly fumbled out,

"I told him the prophecy. That's it, that's all that happened. I told him it was almost him instead of you. It was a mistake. I shouldn't have said anything."

He instantly flew off the bed, putting space between them. He started pacing back and forth in front of the window in his room. Everything froze within her. He wasn't supposed to act like that. He was supposed to get angry for a moment, maybe even shout at her, but pacing. Pacing was bad. Pacing was very, very bad. What could he possibly be so upset about now? Nothing had happened. Her brain fluttered again, trying to tell her something but all she could hear were her breaths coming out of her chest, hard and scared.

"Why would you do that to me?" Harry almost whispered, still pacing across the wood floor.

"But nothing…I just told…I didn't think it was such a big…" She stuttered and then immediately broke off. The window panes started to rattle and Harry stopped moving and started taking very slow long breaths, as if trying very hard not to make everything in the room explode. He turned toward her, tense and disbelieving.

"Of course it's a big deal, Ginny. I told you that in confidence! I trusted you." His voice dropped low, the panes still rattling in the windows, as he continued. "I don't trust anyone. But I trusted _you_, and you just…"

He dropped off, pacing again, and the words hit her square in the chest. The memories from this summer, the memories from their long, shared history flooded her. She had been so callous. She continued to watch him pace, her wide eyes following each furious step. The room was almost vibrating with his anger, and she felt just the tiniest bit of indignation. It wasn't like she had unloaded everything on Neville; she had only told him one thing, one thing that pertained only to Neville. She understood him being angry, but did he have to react this badly toward it? Instead of letting him continue to slowly boil she just came out and said what she was thinking. It was time to stop keeping things to herself.

"I didn't think it mattered anymore, the prophecy is fulfilled, and it won't change Neville's life in any way. It's not like I told him about anything important."

"It doesn't matter what you told him! You shouldn't have said anything at all! Does my trust mean so little to you?" He yelled at her and his lamp shattered on the bed stand next to her. She flinched as the pieces exploded in a glassy spray across the sheets and all over the floor. Harry started pacing again, the panes rattling. She shook the glass from her hair and took a deep breath. That was completely unnecessary. She understood that he was mad, but now he was just overreacting. She tried to keep calm. Unleashing her temper upon his fury was only going to make this get ugly fast. She would at least attempt to be in control so that they could talk through this.

"I'm sorry. It was a lapse in judgment. I've been having a rough run of it with all these tabloids. He's my best friend, Harry." She evenly responded, but it only seemed to infuriate him more.

"I haven't even told your brother, _my_ best friend, some of those things, Ginny. You didn't have a right to say anything. I can't believe you'd betray me like that." Harry stopped his tirade and lowered his voice to finish, "you're not who I thought you were." Panic clenched in her gut.

"Don't say that. Don't say that." She pushed up from the bed, glass falling from her lap. The word 'betray' rippled across her chest. He stopped in front of her and it was almost painful to look at him. He took a labored breath, the window panes still shaking and snapped,

"All I'm hearing are these stories about you at school, and I find myself thinking more and more that I didn't know you at all. The person in front of me right now is not the same girl from this summer." He gave her a dismissive sort of look. It was as if he'd kicked her in the gut. Then just as quickly she felt her closely controlled anger snap deep in her chest and her body almost hummed with the force of it.

"And you're the same?" She yelled. "Running off into danger, making bloody lamps explode and being moody all the time? What happened to the man who kept me company even when I didn't say a word? Who stood up for me in front of Ron? Where the hell did he go? Because all you are is someone who is judging me and acting like I should be carted off to Azkaban for something so small!"

"Small?" He shouted back. "Of course I can judge you! You broke our confidence. You're running off, having fun with Neville, stirring up this gossip about you, all while I'm out there killing myself." He snapped.

"You chose to do that!" She flung her arms out in her rage, almost smacking him they had gotten so close. "And Neville is my best friend; of course I'm going to be around him all the time. You think I'd tell you to stay away from Hermione because she's a girl?"

"Hermione isn't in LOVE with me!" He roared. She took a step back, her socks crunching against the glass. She stood there, shellshocked for a heartbeat, before he continued. "And don't you dare," he warned, "tell me that you don't know that. I tried to be patient Ginny, I tried to be understanding, I tried to tell myself that I was just reading into your whole friendship, but its all bullshit. You know he's in love with you and you haven't done _anything_ to stop it."

"Who gives a fuck if he is? I'm in love with you!" She yelled at him.

"You have an odd way of showing it." He shouted and started pacing again. "I don't know you at all anymore. I can't even recognize you."

"This is me." She said her anger filling over any kind of hurt she was feeling. "You wouldn't know that because you were out in that fucking tent for a year…but this is _me,_ Harry. You just liked me better when I was sick!" She spat the words at him and then felt a wave of tears threaten to break through. Was she right? The longer the silence pulled out between them the more she started to think she was.

"That's not true." He finally said in a hushed voice.

"It has to be. Neville started being my friend two years ago. He understood when I told him that you'd broken up with me. He was so upbeat when I told him that we'd have to suffer through a year without you. He patched me up, and made me smile all last year in that _hell_ that Hogwarts had become. And then you stepped in, thinking that everything was going to be so easy now that you had won and everything was fine. And I was so sick…" She paused and took a shaky breath. "And the second I started to come back out of it was the second we started fighting. You liked me better when I was suicidal."

"Don't you dare say that." He snapped to attention toward her, the window panes shaking violently this time. "Who you were last year, and who you were this summer aren't what I'm talking about. This girl…right here…" he looked her up and down. "Who the hell are you? Telling my secrets to Neville? Doing things to get your name splashed all over the tabloids. Getting mad at _me_ because of what _you_ did?"

"I just told him he wasn't the chosen one!" She screamed at him. "I didn't tell him about Snape or the train station or Malfoy! I didn't tell him anything important! And he seemed fine with it. He told me…." She stopped and choked on the rest of the sentence. Harry's eyes flashed toward her again.

"Say it." He growled. She shook her head, tears starting to fill her chest again. "I'm not fucking around Ginny. You need to tell me everything that happened. Right now. Everything."

"He implied that," she shakily started, his eyes pinning her to the floor. "That he's okay knowing his destiny, because yours gave you…" She stopped, tears clouding her eyes.

"Say it." He snapped.

"Me. Because you get me." She forced out and turned away from him, furiously wiping at her face as the tears fell. "So he's in love with me."

"And how long have you known this?" Harry asked in a strained voice.

"I don't know, Harry." She moaned through her tears. She couldn't look at his face; his clenched fists at his sides were enough. "I tried to think that I was just looking too hard at it. I thought he was just being friendly. Then I thought he was just being flirty, like last year." She stopped when a window pane broke behind her, flooding the room with ice cold air. It caused a hitched breath to come out. "I thought he was just being my best friend. But I ignored it. I wished it wasn't love. I tried to just brush it aside."

"Did you know last year?" He darkly asked. The room started to fill with a horrible chill, snow falling through the broken pane melted against the windowsill. "Did you know he loved you last year, when I was gone?"

"Does it even matter?" She whirled around on him, anger flooding over her anxiety. "You broke up with me!"

"Don't," he started in a warning tone. "Don't play that game with me. You know I didn't want to do that. You seemed alright with the decision."

"Alright? Alright?" She yelled at him. "I cried myself to sleep for a week! I was devastated! You break up with me, and then take off suddenly, possibly to never return! What the hell do you think that did to me?"

"Did you know, last year, that Neville was in love with you?" He locked dead serious eyes with her again. Snow flurries started pushing into the room behind him as he held perfectly still for her answer.

"No. We were a little too busy to worry about stupid bullshit like love." She snapped at him and kicked a piece of lamp at the wall; it shattered to the floor.

"Busy with what exactly? Your Potion's assignment?" He laughed.

"Don't you fucking patronize me." She growled and moved toward him.

"Then enlighten me to activities that were so important that you didn't notice that Neville was falling madly in love with you?" He met her anger, refusing to move away from her. She pulled her shirt aside,

"See that? That little star looking scar on my collarbone?" She yanked the shirt lower to make sure he did. "Right before Easter Break, I had cursed a Slytherin that was hexing a second year Ravenclaw. I got him good, too. But word got back and I was given detention." She let out a bitter laugh. "They made everyone practice unforgivables in detention last year. Some fourth year Slytherin, who had no idea what he was doing, shot a Cruciatus at me." She pointed at the faint pink splotch against her chest, one inch below her collarbone.

"I didn't…" He started.

"You wanted to know, so listen." She yelled over him. "Halloween Feast. The Carrows were starting to get a flair for the dramatic at that point. I was out after curfew; it was the beginning of the Underground. They were gaining on me, and I only had the Room of Requirement to flee to. I made it in, but it scraped up my palms when I fell inside." She turned her hands over to show the white lines across her palms and wrists from the event. His eyes quickly glanced over them in the same intense way they had this summer. And just like this summer he seemed to categorize them, but not say a word. "They bled forever."

He took a step toward her, and she took a step back. He moved to touch her and she moved out of his reach again. She couldn't let him touch her, if he touched her all her anger would dissolve, and she was still so very, very angry. She met eyes with him for a moment and then continued.

"The second week of school. It hadn't stopped raining since we got on the Hogwarts Express. Like the school knew the three of you weren't going to be there so it was going to punish us. I was running down a hallway, trying to get out of the blast range of a Slytherin seventh year. I tripped and bashed my knee against the floor. He caught up with me and gave me this." She pulled up the right sleeve on her shirt to expose the small, rounded, raised, white mark. Shaking and silent his fingers twitched against his side, he wanted to touch her. His quiet anger was still staining his cheeks red, but he didn't seem to be heaving with rage anymore. She dropped her shirt and took a steadying breath.

"It wasn't just gloom and annoyance. There was a war going on everywhere, Harry. Especially at Hogwarts. We were trying to learn, and then watch our backs the entire time. They were kidnapping students, regularly. We had to get the students out. We had to start the Underground to make sure no one died. It was getting that serious at the end there." She reached for her wand and flicked it quickly, her hair and eyes morphing into black and green. "This is what I looked like for almost an entire year."

"Ginny." He whispered. She quickly shook her hair out of the transformation back into its regular knotted red mess.

"And it was Neville that was there for me. It was Neville that was patching me up. It was Neville that was next to my bed in the hospital wing when I passed out from the exhaustion of it all. It was Neville that did my homework for me when I had to sneak into Ravenclaw Tower to get students out. It was Neville that was there for me, Harry. We formed something, some bond that isn't definable. So maybe that's why I seem like such a bloody stranger to you. You have no idea what happened to me last year." She took a breath at the astonished look that crossed his face. "Turns out you don't know me at all."

"I didn't know." He dropped his gaze to the mess all over the floor: glass, snow, water, clothes.

"Of course you didn't!" She snapped. "So did I know that Neville was in love with me then? No, no I didn't. Like I said, we were a little too busy to worry about bullshit like that. But do I know it now? Yes. I do. But it doesn't mean that I love him back. Not like that."

"Ginny," he sighed and ran his hands over his face, suddenly looking much older and much more tired. "Why didn't you tell me any of this?"

"When?" She huffed. "When was I supposed to tell you all this? I can't bring up Neville without you flying into a fit, and remembering that terrible time was triggering flashbacks for me. I've finally managed to shake the nightmares about it. And like it matters. Like it matters at all."

"But it does." He locked eyes with her. "This changes…"

"No it doesn't." She cut over him, her anger still burning in her chest. She hadn't realized she was still so angry about all this, but it fueled her temper and she continued to lash out at him. "All it does is make you feel guilty, and that's another reason I didn't want to tell you. I don't want your pity, Harry. It's over, I've moved on. And being around Neville, and being at school, it was like I finally started to feel normal again. I lost myself this summer, but I'm not lost now. This is me. I don't know if that's someone you want anymore."

He stood in front of her for a long, agonizing moment. His eyes pouring over her, every inch of her, and then he said in a low voice,

"You're right."

She felt all her breath leave her. Her brain started warning her for oxygen, but she held totally still.

"I didn't know you were so close with Neville. I misunderstood your friendship; I thought it was just that. I thought you kept him around because he made you laugh or something. I didn't know it went that deep. And maybe you do love him, maybe that's why you keep torturing me with him, and betraying my confidence, and letting him follow you around. I think you're in love with him."

"I'm not." She choked. "I'm in love with you."

"I don't know, Ginny. How am I supposed to believe that you're in love with me after a story like that? How am I supposed to feel when I hear from Hermione that he's taking you to this Yule ball? That's my right…"

"You're too busy, you told me…" She cut over him, her stomach gave a dangerous flip, her mind continued to hold, frozen in horror of what it was sure was about to happen.

"I told you I didn't know. But you assumed it was no. You asked Neville instead." His voice rose a bit.

"I had to find a date, McGonagall is making me go." Her breath hitched. He clenched his hands into fists again; taking a large breath through is nose and shook his head before taking a furious step toward her.

"So take George, Ginny! Take Seamus! Take Luna for all I fucking care. Don't take Neville! You did this on purpose. You're in love with him, not me." He shouted at her.

"No!" She closed the gap, touching his chest. He quickly moved away from her as she continued to plead, "I didn't do this on purpose. I wasn't thinking."

"That's all you're ever doing; never thinking about me when it comes to him. I think this isn't…."

"Please don't, Harry." She sobbed. She moved toward him again, feeling shards of glass from the lamp cut into her feet. But he quickly backed up away from her; a blast of freezing cold came through the broken window pane next to him. Her heart trembled in her ribcage, vibrating in preparation.

"I think we need some time apart, Ginny. I need to think about this."

"Are…you…breaking…" she stuttered against the flood of tears. He turned into a blurry mess of black and white in her vision, her heart expanded in her chest.

"I don't know." He said, looking away from her. "I need some time." He flicked his wand and her clothes appeared from the corners of the room and hung between them.

Her heart shattered, breaking apart with an agonizing pain that was so fast and acute that all she could do was stand there, in shock. She was frozen to the ground. Her clothes still hung between them, awaiting her to accept them and his decision. With shaking hands she lightly grabbed them and he quickly brushed past her and opened the door.

She turned on her heels to watch him go, needing to see if he was just so angry he needed to leave the room, but praying that he would turn around. He just kept walking. She saw Ron and Hermione frozen at the doorjamb; mouths open in surprise, inches away from each other. Harry pushed past them as well and with a loud CRACK was gone. The tears started to blind her they built so fast and hot in her eyes.

"Ginny," Ron moved toward her and quickly pulled her into a hug. She felt herself sag against him and watched as a blurry Hermione continued to stand in the doorway. The still falling pieces of her shattered heart dropped into her gut and the realization of the single truth, the single spoken secret, the refusal to see what had been right in front of her for over a year hit her hard. She had done this to herself, she had destroyed everything, and for what? For Neville?

"What have I done, Ron?" She sobbed. "What have I done?"

He hugged her closer, almost crushing the air out of her chest as she cried against him, her feet bleeding all over the floor, and she shoved her sweater against her face to muffle the wrecking sobs that ripped from her throat.

"It will be okay, Gin." Ron tried to soothe, and pet her head as he held her against him.

"No, it won't." She cried and then shook violently against a shiver. She looked around the room. Glass all over the floor, a large puddle continuing to form as the snow pelted into the room, Harry's things strewn about the place, the covers twisted and unkempt all over the bed. She wasn't welcome here anymore, and her stomach churned. "I have to go."

"You are far too upset to leave. Just stay until you calm down." Ron cautioned her.

"I can't stay here. I don't belong here anymore." She moved away from his arms, hiccupping against her tears as she slowly moved across the floor.

"Ginny don't say that." Ron called out to her.

Hermione continued to stay completely still right outside the door. Frozen into shock Hermione's wide brown eyes took her in for a moment before Ginny turned from her and stood in the middle of the living room. With a final shaky breath she envisioned the dank, dirty Hog's Head and turned with a CRACK.

"Weasley?" Aberforth called out to her when she landed, a tearful, bleeding mess in the center of his bar.

"C…c…can you open the….pass…passageway?" She stuttered on her tears.

"Are you in some kind of trouble? Why are you bleeding, and crying? Where are your shoes?" He dropped the rag he was wiping up the bar with and gave her a hard look.

"P…p…please." She sucked in a hard breath, holding onto it so she didn't burst into another fit in front of him.

"Alright." He reluctantly opened the portrait so she could shuffle down the long, dark passageway. It was still early; almost the entire school was in the Great Hall for breakfast. She moved along all the back passageways and hallways until she made it to the common room. The Fat Lady took one look at her and swung open without even asking for the password.

Three fourth years that were hanging out on the couches by the fire abruptly stopped when they saw her carefully hobble into the room. She didn't even glance to see who it was, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. She hit the stairs and heard them whisper to each other,

"She looks terrible. Didn't she just come from St. Mungo's?"

"To visit Harry, right? At least that's what everyone is saying."

"Do you think he's dead?"

"Don't be stupid, Bethany!"

She closed the door behind herself, moved across the room, carefully laid herself down upon her bed, flicked her wand to close the curtains on her four-poster, and willed the tears to come again. But there weren't any. She was empty now. She clutched her clothes closer to her chest and looked into the blackness of the curtains until she couldn't tell if her eyes were open or closed anymore.

* * *

~*~

"Ginny?" Hermione's hesitant voice called out to her from behind the darkness. She continued to just stare into it. She had no idea how much time had passed. She was sure she'd heard noise downstairs at one point, then a bell, maybe two; it could be night for all she cared. "I'm going to open the curtain."

A small sliver of light filtered into her darkness and she turned her eyes toward it as Hermione swam into view. Her eyes burned, like she might have been keeping them open this whole time. Hermione slowly pulled the curtain back until she was exposed to the cold air of the room. Next to Hermione another shape started to form and she picked out blonde hair and a slight frown.

"You're bleeding, Ginny." Luna said. "Let me take a look at that."

She continued to lay there, motionless on the bed as Luna threw open another curtain on her bed and started to work on her feet. Luna gently pulled her socks off, and then she could feel the tiny shards of lamp come out of her feet, followed instantly by being healed. Hermione just continued to stand there, staring at her.

"Much better," Luna said in a happy voice. "Hermione's told me that you and Harry had a fight."

She closed her eyes as his name fell across her ears. His name hurt more than she cared to admit; she curled further into herself.

"Ginny, I…" Hermione started and then faltered.

"I'm sure I don't need to remind you of this Ginny, but Harry does have a bit of a temper. I'm sure it was nothing. No need to be so upset." Luna smiled and sat next to her on the bed. She forced open her eyes despite the stabbing pain they were giving her.

"He broke up with me, Luna." She croaked and Hermione took a fluttering breath.

"No, he said he needed to think. That's not breaking up." Hermione quietly said. Ginny turned her eyes up to Hermione, she was startlingly white.

"Eavesdropping?" She croaked.

"You two were yelling so loudly. I've never heard Harry sound that mean before, at least not to you, Ginny. We were worried, and then we…" Hermione faltered.

"Eavesdropping is very rude Hermione, you should apologize." Luna said matter-of-factly. "But if Hermione's right then he didn't break up with you. Just a fight."

"I don't think so, Luna." She pushed herself up from the bed, leaving her filthy clothes behind and adjusting her shirt again, his shirt, her chest fluttered with a warning of another round of tears. She made it to the bathroom door and peeled the shirt off, down to just her bra and jeans now. She tossed it into the middle of the room and quietly said without looking back, "Will you return this to him, Hermione?"

"Of course." Hermione answered. She nodded once and shut the door behind herself, sliding to the floor.

"Did you make sure to hide the razors?" She heard Luna ask.

"Luna," Hermione sighed, but then almost too low for Ginny to hear added, "yes."

She curled up on the floor and pulled down a towel to use as a blanket before she surrendered back to the blackness.

* * *

~*~

She waited until she was sure the room was empty to take her long awaited shower and curl back up in her bed again, curtains closed, staring into the darkness, waiting. Waiting for what she wasn't sure. Everything still felt raw. Her body ached from the vigil she'd kept at Harry's bedside, her mind pounded with hunger and sleep deprivation, but her chest…her heart, it felt so raw that she couldn't summon the will to do much else but lay there. She kept hoping that it wasn't real, but she had enough clarity to know it was. The door cracked open and she heard a single set of footprints cross the floor.

"Ginny?" Hermione whispered. "Are you awake?"

"Yes." She flatly responded.

"I'm…" Hermione stopped for a moment and she heard her sniffle a little. "I'm so sorry, Ginny." She finished sounding very close to tears her voice muffled but the still closed curtains.

"Don't be." She exhaled and closed her eyes.

"I told Harry those things. I told him that I was worried about you and Neville. I didn't know what you two had been through last year. I didn't know that you had such a bond with him. This could have all been avoided if I'd just…I'm as bad as Lavender." Hermione sniffled and then slowly pulled back the curtain.

Ginny blinked a bit at the light and then looked into Hermione's face, puffy and red with tears. She didn't have the will to get up, but she knew Hermione was wrong.

"It's not your fault. I did this to myself." She murmured and closed her eyes, and took a breath despite the stabbing sensation next to her heart.

"No, I didn't have all the facts before I started making assumptions. I know better than that." Hermione took a hitched breath. "I didn't think he'd break up with you, Ginny. I just thought it would make you two talk about it. All you two ever do is fight, but nothing gets resolved, he's been grumbling about this for months now."

"So now he's broken up with me?" She drawled out, turning away from Hermione on the bed.

"No. It's a break, not a break up." Hermione quickly responded. "Just give him some time."

"I don't think that's going to matter. He said we're strangers to each other." She told her pillow, and felt Hermione's fingers lightly touch her arm.

"Don't give up that easily." She cautiously started. "If I'd given up that easily I'd still be crying in my room over your brother. You have to take the hard times with the good, no one ever said love was easy."

"Ron's always been in love with you. So it's easier for you to say something like that." Ginny sighed. She wanted so badly to believe Hermione, but it seemed far too easy. Nothing between her and Harry was easy, she couldn't hold onto this false hope now. "Harry didn't even know I existed until my fifth year. Please just leave me alone."

"He overreacted, Ginny. He was too angry for his own good. You told him again and again that you had no feelings for Neville. He's made a mistake. Just wait." Hermione pleaded to her back, her cold fingers wrapping lightly around her arm.

"Just leave me alone, please." She groaned into her bed and held her breath against the tears that threatened to come up again.

"I'm sorry." Hermione whispered and stood up. Ginny turned toward her then, and shook her head,

"This wasn't your fault. It was mine."

She closed the curtains with a flick of her wand and settled back down into the darkness. She heard Hermione fretting about, fidgeting and tapping her foot a bit, and then there were footsteps and a softly closed door.

* * *

~*~

She couldn't be sure, but she was almost positive that she stayed up the entire night, drifting in and out of consciousness. When the sun broke through a tiny slit in her curtains she willed herself to sit up. Sunday. She'd scheduled a Quidditch practice this morning. She almost started crying at the idea of having to go out and practice. Going out and doing anything meant that yesterday had actually happened and she wasn't about to wake up in the hospital next to a still sleeping Harry.

Harry. Her chest contracted, the empty space where her heart used to be gave a useless pump, and she shook her head, disgusted and depressed. She could still hear Hermione's deep breathing as she slept. It would be less painful if she snuck out now. That way she wouldn't have to face Hermione's almost agonizing optimism that things were going to turn around. Ginny knew they weren't. As she had lain in the black hole she'd turned her bed into she knew that she had partook in a cardinal sin. Harry's trust was not something to take lightly. He might never forgive her. And the white-hot anger that she felt toward her own selfish, childish stupidity was only matched by the bitter taste of losing what she had always wanted. Her chest cavity gave a painful thump and she closed her eyes for a moment, defeated. She had an inclination that this feeling was never going to go away.

She pushed up from the four-poster. She had to clear her head. She knew there was no escaping the thoughts, but she wanted to forget about how angry he looked, and how hard she had cried for at least ten minutes. Only ten minutes of her day, and then she'd allow herself to sink back into her purgatory. She carefully made her way out of the dorm, slung on her jumper and trainers, and made a beeline for the Pitch. It would be two hours before any of her team was supposed to show up, plenty of time to clear her head so practice was useful.

Slipping across the icy snow she made it down to the locker room and threw open the door. The weather was horrible, the kind of cold that made your bones hurt. While it wasn't currently snowing the dark clouds hanging at the peaks of the mountains were a warning. She summoned her broom without looking at it, because looking at it would remind her who had bought it, and moved out into the frozen Pitch. She shot a warming charm at herself and with a few steps onto the crunchy snow covered grass kicked off from the ground and shot up into the sky.

She flew. She flew until her eyes started to sting and her hands seemed frozen to the broom. She flew until she was panting with exertion and couldn't feel her face. She flew until her mind cleared of the buzz, and the sorrow, and the pain. She flew until all that encompassed her mind was white clarity, empty and uncomplicated. It was as if she had finally taken a breath. It felt like she had been holding her breath since she was eleven in that moment when the diary had first written back to her. With utter clarity she recalled the memory.

She had almost flown into her room, red and breathy with tears, horribly embarrassed and also feeling hurt. She'd dug through her trunk until she found the small black book. A book that she hadn't told anyone she owned. She owned so little, this extra book with all the blank pages was something all her own. She had wondered if her Mum had snuck it in as a present for her starting school. But she didn't want to alert her Mum about it just in case she hadn't and she'd have to give it back. She needed to vent, she needed to write down all her silly, painful, and sometimes overwhelming emotions somewhere so she didn't have to keep carrying them within herself. She found a self inking quill, it promptly exploded all over her hands and she had let out a frustrated moan. Was everything she owned broken? She looked at the book again; it was pristine, the only non-hand-me-down book she'd every lay her hands on. She found another quill and angrily wrote down:

_I just want to scream! Why does this have to be so hard? Why must my life feel like a curse? Why can't I control myself? One moment of embarrassment and I look like a horrible tomato. That won't get me anywhere. I hate my life_.

And then, to her shock, the ink had sunk into the page, sucked down as if the book was drinking it. She had gasped in an enormous breath and held it. In a quick slanted writing it slowly bled onto the page:

_Tell me more._

She jerked to a stop in the middle of the Pitch. The diary? She hadn't really thought about the diary in such a long time. Tom, yes, frequently. But the diary? She hung mid-air, panting and frozen and her mind slowly started to clutter and cloud back up again, all the conflicting emotions and memories shouting for attention, as the thought of the diary sank back down below the surface. She shook herself out and scanned the Pitch.

In black and blue, sitting in the middle of the icicle laden stands, Luna gave her a big wave. With an internal groan she waved back and made her way over. Luna wasn't going to go anywhere unless she was heard. She knew exactly what was about to come out of her friends mouth and steeled herself for the coming onslaught. She wasn't going to cry today. Tonight, maybe, but not today.

"Ginny!" Luna called out to her and stood, a perfect circle of defrosted bench from Luna's own warming charm coming into view as she flew closer and stopped.

"Hi, Luna. What's wrong?" She jumped on the assault. Better to try and control the conversation from the beginning so she could keep the upper hand.

"Battling a case of the Whopples I'm afraid. I think Headmistress McGonagall passed them along to me. They hate the cold, you see. I figured this was the best way to stave them off. You looked amazing out there, flying." Luna gave her a genuine smile.

"Thanks." She landed on the stands and stood in front of Luna. "Anything I can do? About the Whopples?"

"No, I'm afraid. You just have to suffer through them until they jump onto the next host. It's been so distracting; I can barely concentrate on my studies. Did you finish that Charms assignment?" Luna shook her head a bit; the bobbles on her knitted cap went swinging about and then settled back down.

"I haven't done any assignments yet." Ginny crossed her arms over her chest.

"That's right, you've been away. Sorry, Whopples." Luna shrugged. Ginny felt a tiny smile start to form. "Perhaps we can work on it tonight, together in the library?"

"That'd be great." Ginny nodded and grabbed the handle of her broom again, trying to show Luna that she wanted to end the conversation.

"Are you feeling any better? Since yesterday?" Luna fixed her large silver eyes upon her and Ginny deflated. Here it was. She looked at the ground, unsure of if she even wanted to acknowledge the question. "I didn't mean to pry, just wanted to make sure I healed your feet correctly."

"Oh," Ginny shot her head back up. "My feet are fine. Thanks."

"It's alright, Ginny." Luna leaned forward and whispered, "I'm not going to ask you about Harry."

"Thanks." Ginny exhaled. Her breath broke as a giant cloud of white around her head. "You might be the only one today."

"I think people will be nicer than you think. I talked to Hermione this morning, told her to just leave you be while you sorted this out." Luna gave her a bracing smile.

"Thanks, Luna. She was getting to be a little too much. I can't deal with her today." Ginny grumbled and kicked at some icicles on the benches.

"That's understandable. I can't look at Hermione without thinking about Harry either. They're almost inseparable in my mind." Luna looked off into the distance, and Ginny felt the empty place where her heart used to beat give a horrible lurch. She hadn't thought of it that way, now there was another way to torment herself.

"Right." She let out a long breath and gripped her broom tighter.

"Just give Harry a couple of days. I'm sure that's all this will take to fix back up." Luna shook her head again, bobbles swinging around, and Ginny leaned against the frozen railings of the stands.

"I don't think it's that easy, Luna." She frowned.

"Gryffindors." Luna shook her head and laughed a little. "You lot always think in black and white. You know the universe is made up of mostly grey? This is a very grey situation. Stop seeing black, Ginny." Luna gave her a pat and made her way back down, out of the stands. She called over her shoulder, "I'll see you tonight!"

"Yeah." She distractedly called after her, but her words had struck something deep in her mind. Black. She had surrounded herself with black; the black of her curtains, the black of her mood, the black of her thoughts, the black on her hands. She looked down quickly but the ink wasn't there and she let out a charged breath.

"Oi! Why the hell would you be up this early?" Seamus called out to her from the Pitch. She looked over the railing down at him, bundled up and wearing his warm-ups, holding his broom.

"To see how badly you all have slacked off since I've been gone." She called back down and Seamus gave her a small laugh and wave of his arm, as if to imply she had no idea what she was talking about. "Rest of the team in there?"

"Just waiting for you, Captain!" He yelled back up, and then jogged back into the locker room. She took another large, frozen, cleansing breath and started down toward her team.

* * *

~*~

"Run it again!" She called out. Her team seemed to sag on their brooms and their groans were swept up into the building storm. Snow was starting to come down in a light dusting as they all moved into position on the Pitch. Dean flew over for a moment and gave her a long look. "What?" She snapped.

"We've been at it for hours. It's snowing. The next match isn't until after the break. You have a mutiny brewing, Ginny." He looked over his shoulder and she saw the rest of the team whispering to each other and nodding and frowning.

"We'll never be the…" she started and Dean cut her immediately off.

"You already got on the Harpies. You can calm down, Ginny. For Merlin's sake your hands are blue!" He pointed down to her ungloved hands and she saw that they were too white, the nail beds looking bruised.

"Fine." She shook her head. Dean sagged with relief as well and she called out past him. "Pack up! We're done for today!"

"Took her long enough!" Seamus' voice rose above the grumbling din and she lowered herself to the ground, still aware of Dean right next to her.

"Everything alright, Ginny?" He quietly asked and she shoved one of her frozen hands into her jacket.

"Perfectly fine." She lied and Dean made a noise of disbelief in his throat. "Just say it."

"I know you better than that. Everything go alright with Harry at St. Mungo's?" He held the door open for her and she looked down at her feet as she moved past him.

"He's fine." She quickly answered.

"Ginny," Dean said, his voice echoing in the hallway. He'd said it in such a nice way, such a knowing way. She looked up at him for a moment, knowing that her face would tell him more than he would ever need to know.

"Yes?"

"Nevermind." He locked eyes with her, nodded, and then moved down the hallway past her.

She fell against the bricks of the locker room wall and took a few shuttering breaths, trying to compose herself. She had been expecting the questions about Harry. She just hadn't expected everyone to be so sympathetic. She felt a wave of tears start to form and clenched her jaw. Not today. Tonight, alone, in her bed she'd cry again, but not today. She needed a distraction.

For the first time since she'd set foot on campus she was excited about the prospect of an entire day of assignments.

* * *

~*~

Past the probing eyes, through the hushed common room, up the stairs she paused at her door. She was still frozen through; her nail beds were still a horrible purple color. She wouldn't have been surprised if she'd shook ice out of her hair at this point. She was wary of a Hermione assault and paused, with her hand on the knob, when she heard Hermione's voice moan out,

"Ron."

At first she gave the door a disgusted look, wondering if she would be mentally scarred forever by what she would walk in on, but then Hermione's voice cut through the door again.

"Well talk to him!"

She sighed; it wasn't anything like that. She went to turn the knob and just walk in when the next words stopped her cold.

"You listen to me Harry Potter! Don't walk away!"

She pulled out her wand and shot a silencing charm at the door and then slowly cracked it open and snuck right in. The door closed silently behind her and she leaned against it, barely breathing, as she saw Hermione sitting on the floor in their room facing the fire. Hermione's back was to her and the fireplace was roaring with green flames.

"He walked away!" Hermione indignantly shouted.

"At least he just walked away. How many times do you reckon you can _Reparo _something before it just refuses to go back together?" Ron's voice sighed from the fire.

"Why would you do that?" Hermione shifted slightly on the floor.

"Because SOMEONE," Ron yelled out, "has decided that he wants to continue breaking all our plates!"

"I'll buy new fucking plates!" Harry's angry voice yelled, far from the fireplace, it almost sounded like an echo.

"Break your own shit! Don't break the stuff we share!" Ron yelled back at him and then grumbled, "He's been like this since he came back. Almost two days of this, Hermione. I can't take much more. And I'm supposed to be here with him all week?"

"Ron you have to talk to him." Hermione pleaded.

"And say what? 'Don't worry mate, she's just being a silly bint.' That's my sister! I can't say that about my sister!" Ron snapped. "I knew this was a horrible idea."

"Don't say that, you know they're perfect for each other." Hermione chastised him.

"When they get along! When they aren't I'd take on a Death Eater just to be clean of the situation. At least Death Eaters don't shatter all our GLASSES because I said Ginny's name!" Ron yelled it out again. There was a long string of barely audible cussing to be heard from Harry, and Hermione sighed.

"How is it going? Really? Just tell me the truth." Hermione murmured.

"He's a wreck. Temper is out of control; he breaks things without thinking about it. Quite annoying and terrifying when your teacup explodes in your hand because your best mate can't keep it together. He might be cracking up. I don't know. I'm just trying to make sure he doesn't go on some killing rampage." Ron grumbled.

"You don't mean that." Hermione hissed, sitting up straight on the floor. "You think he's cracking up?"

"Who knows, Hermione? To tell you the truth I've been expecting it." Ron sighed and then started in a very low voice, a secret, Ginny felt herself lean forward to hear better. "He took out the map again."

"But that's a good thing!" Hermione exclaimed.

"I don't know. He's just brooding. Staring at the map. Pacing. Breaking things. If he starts going after things in my room I'm going to have to restrain him!" Ron's voice reached back to normal pitch. "How's Gin-bug?"

"Despondent. She went directly up to her room; she must have been bleeding for two hours before I got up here. Her socks were all damp with blood, it messed her sheets. I cleaned it all up. She's just…" Hermione dropped off.

"Gone?" Ron offered.

"Yeah." Hermione softly answered.

"So is Harry. How do we fix this, Hermione?" Ron exhaled loudly.

"Can we?" Hermione slumped down again out of her posture. "Maybe it's just not our place. Maybe we should just let this run its course."

"But what if they don't get back together?" Ron anxiously asked.

"I don't know." Hermione shrugged. "Neither of us can pick sides. It would be horribly awkward."

"Maybe I should just kick his arse?" Ron offered.

"Ron," Hermione laughed then sighed. "Look after him. Don't let him do anything too stupid."

"Look after Ginny, eh? Make sure she doesn't do anything drastic." Ron softly said and then just as quietly, "Love you."

"I love you too." Hermione moved to touch the fire and then the green flames burnt out. Hermione pushed up from the floor and turned around. She jumped at first, hands flying to her face. "Ginny?"

"Last time I checked." She dryly answered.

"How long have you been there?" Hermione moved toward her.

"Long enough. Maybe I should buy Ron some glasses for Christmas?" Ginny shrugged out of her Captain's jacket and quickly moved across the floor toward her bed.

"Ginny, this is good." Hermione moved over toward her own trunk.

"If you say so." She refused to make eye contact with her and instead focused on her hands. They were starting to get that horrible tingly prickly feeling as they thawed. She had overdone it. She'd be no good to the Harpies if she froze her fingers off.

"Maybe you should write to him. Or Floo him?" Hermione suggested and snatched something off her bed. Ginny looked at Hermione's hands for only a moment before Hermione threw her Draught of Peace potions back into her trunk. So Hermione thought she was about to crack as well.

"I'm fine you know?" She crossed her arms and glared at Hermione. "I'm not going to kill myself. You don't have to hide everything from me. Besides if I wanted to kill myself I would just use my wand and you haven't taken that away from me."

"Ginny don't say that!" Hermione gasped.

"And I'm not Flooing him, or writing to him. He said he needed time. He needed space. I'll at least do _this_ part right." She grumbled.

"That's the _last_ thing he needs! He needs you! He needs you to talk to him and fight with him and work this out. He needs you, Ginny. He's a different person when he's with you." Hermione moved toward her, attempting to touch her. Ginny stumbled back fast, desperately trying to avoid her hands. She bumped against her bed and fell back a bit. Hermione pulled away instantly, looking both horrified and hurt.

"Hermione, I need you to just leave it. Stop trying to fix this. Some things aren't meant to be fixed." Ginny managed and pushed back up from the bed.

"You don't believe that. I can see it in your eyes, Ginny." Hermione quietly said.

"I know." She whispered. "But you didn't see his."

Ginny pushed past her, closed the door to the bathroom, set the shower to scorching and jumped in, clothes and trainers still on. She pulled her knees up, rested her head against them and let herself cry. Well, at least she'd made it to the afternoon.

* * *

~*~

Author's Note:

TOW Gunner – thanks again for all your tireless work! I fear to think where this story would be without your help.


	26. Chapter 26

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 26~

_And I know the mistakes that I made_

_See it all disappear without a trace _

_And they call as they beckon you on _

_They said start as you mean to go on _

_A Rush of Blood to the Head by Coldplay_

* * *

~*~

She couldn't call it hiding. It was more like avoidance. Well aware of Neville looking for her, and well aware of the shadow Hermione had become, Ginny resigned to staying within the confines of her four-poster. After she had slopped her soaking wet clothes off, after her fingernails had slowly changed back to pink from that horrible frozen purple color, after she had cleared her brain of anything that could set her off again, she had marched over to her bed and closed all the curtains. She summoned a few candles, set them to float, and proceeded to work on her massive backlog of assignments before she'd have to meet Luna.

Hermione had fretted about for a bit before finally admitting defeat and leaving the room to do whatever it was that Hermione did these days. It was around mid-afternoon, when she had caught up to all her Potions assignments that the first owl had fluttered to their window and tapped until she let the poor animal in. Shaking off snow and what appeared to be sleet she let the bird warm up before it took off again.

Ron. Her brother had actually sent her a letter. For a moment the letter moved with her trembling hands before she slipped a numb finger under the seal and opened it. She glanced at the few quick and slanted sentences:

_Ginny,_

_Did the hospital tell you anything about potions Harry was supposed to be taking?_

_Perhaps a Draught of Living Death? Right? Please tell me I'm right._

_I need an excuse to slip it into his tea. Give me an excuse, Ginny._

_-Ron_

She gave a little shake of her head and tossed the letter into the small drawer of her beside table. Ron already knew the answer to that one; she didn't need to respond. But she did find it slightly bracing that he would try to continue to ask her advice as if she had control over the situation still. She stopped herself immediately. No need in following that train of thought. She should be thinking about her Transfiguration assignments: she'd yet to change her misshapen, ugly rock into anything, other than a different color.

Another hour of coursework, and another owl. This owl pecked relentlessly at the window and when she opened it to let the bird in, a giant gust of snow and ice pelted into the room along with it. She quickly slammed the window shut and let the owl warm up while she pulled the scroll and small package off its leg.

_Gin-Bug,_

_Thought you might need a distraction for a bit. I've yet to come up with a name for this. Maybe you can give it a go until that wanker realizes he's being a bloody fool._

_Love,_

_George_

She opened the package and neatly folded in the small box was the enchanted sock George had shown her during the summer. From the night they had all gotten sloshed together and she had passed out on…she stopped the thought. Ensuring she didn't think about Harry was going to be like breaking a bad habit at this point. It was going to take a supreme amount of self-control to erase him from her thoughts. Well, at least remove him from them for a bit. At least stop the thought before it turned her into a tearful mess. Maybe she wouldn't have to do that for long. If she could just be patient…if she could suffer through this punishment…if she was lucky. She sighed, who was she kidding?

Ginny closed her eyes and gripped the sock tightly in her hand. The owl hooted a few times to be let back out and she allowed the storm to fill the room with snow for a moment before she shut the window again. She looked down at the sock and wracked her brain to try and figure out anything that she could name it. The twins always had such creative names for all their products.

Realization stabbed her quickly in the gut and she sucked in a quick breath. They weren't 'the twins' anymore. Just George. Another stab made her eyes sting with tears and she sucked in a deep breath. Focus, no tears. She brought the unassuming sock up to eye level and examined it. If memory served her correctly George had gotten the idea from Hermione and the bag she had used last year. George had figured if you could hide a tent in a handbag you could hide fireworks in a sock. She could hide a trunk in there if she wanted to. You could hide any number of things in there. Things you didn't want to get in trouble for. Things you needed to hide. Things you needed to forget.

She let a shaky hand move down into the pockets of the oversized black jacket she had on and her fingers brushed against them; the vial and the amulet. Barely looking at them she pulled the two items out of her pocket and shoved them into the sock. She let out a charged breath and set the sock down for a moment, it laid flat upon the bed despite having items within it, and shrugged out of the jacket.

Her only other jacket was balled up in a still-damp mess in the bathroom sink. The cold air of the room hit her causing instant goose bumps, but she ignored that and picked up her wand. With a quick shrinking charm she shoved the jacket into the seemingly infinite space inside of the sock and then dropped it back down onto the bed like it was on fire. Was she attempting to hide these physical memories, or forget them? She wasn't sure. But she knew that if _he_ had said he needed time, than maybe she needed time as well. Maybe she should take this time to think about her life, think about how he fit into it, think about if she'd ever be able to move on without…

Maybe she should think all those things, but it was too painful. She knew she should have pulled the memories all back out of the sock and just faced the reality she had created for herself…but it was so much easier to hide it all and forget about it. Picking the sock up she shoved it into the small drawer with Ron's letter. She knew it was wrong, but it was the only way she knew how to function.

After being saved from the Chamber she had grabbed all her quills and shoved them into an oversized Every Flavor Beans box. She'd broken every single quill with the act, but she didn't care. She needed to somehow hide and contain the only physical evidence left of the evil she had unleashed. The quills that had fed the ink and pain into the diary and brought it alive needed to be contained. The box had been thrown at the bottom of her trunk before leaving. Then the box had been set on top of her trunk as she had sat, silent and traumatized in her room for the first two weeks back. Then the box was placed on the table in her room as she started talking and eating again. She'd eye the box, knowing the evil inside it, knowing the quills that had given life to that monster were inside that candy box. And then halfway through the summer her Mum had cleaned her room, and thinking it was a bit of garbage, had thrown it away.

The overwhelming sense of relief was only matched by the devastating sense of disappointment with herself. The evil was gone. But for a second time it wasn't by her own hand. She couldn't tell what was more telling of her character that day; that she had spent most of her summer staring down a box of candy, or that she hadn't told a single soul what was inside it. Yet, the box had done its job. She had been able to slowly start her life again, no longer crippled by her overwhelming fear and the non-stop stream of tears that would accompany it. Now, with this sock, she was doing it all over again. Was it so bad that she didn't want to cry over Harry every hour of her day? Was it so bad that she just wanted to focus on her coursework and her practice without choking up from memories?

"No, no it's not asking too much!" She said aloud in the room, and jumped a bit, startling herself. She gave a final glance at the drawer before shaking her head and muttering, "get a grip Weasley. They might not let you off the fourth floor a second time."

* * *

~*~

Ginny took a final, almost obsessive, look at herself in the mirror of the bathroom. Shoulder length light brown hair, her usual brown eyes, and an inconspicuous grey jumper and jeans; she'd blend right in. She didn't have a very long walk from the Gryffindor common room to the library, but if she was going to stick out like a sore thumb on any day it would be this evening.

She was sure that the school was buzzing about her return by now. She was also sure that it was only a mater of time before Neville was going to corner her. She was neither in the mood nor the right frame of mind to deal with Neville and the horrible piercing feeling she'd get in her gut when she thought of the conversation she'd eventually have to have with him. Taking a final big breath she swung open the bathroom door.

"Ginny?" Hermione's confused voice filled the small room and she frowned a bit. Hermione had to have come in while she had been checking her self-transfiguration work for the umpteenth time. She watched as Hermione eyes looked her up and down.

"I have to go meet Luna in the library." She looked over at Hermione who just nodded and then cleared her throat.

"Neville is looking for you." Hermione gave her a cautious look.

"I'm well aware of that." She adjusted her book bag on her shoulder.

"Last I saw of him he was down by the Great Hall." Hermione sat down on her bed, Head Girl badge shining on her shirt.

"Thanks." Ginny crossed the room and put her hand on the doorknob.

"It's going to get bet…" Hermione started to say to her back but Ginny spun around and said in a warning voice,

"Don't."

Hermione nodded, her eyes bright with tears, and ducked her head down, a signal that Ginny could leave. She sucked in another large breath and quickly moved down the stairs into the common room below. Students were laughing and talking, flirting and pushing each other; it would have been a warm and welcoming sight, if things were different. She continued to look at the floor and made a quick retreat through the Fat Lady. She adjusted her jumper a bit as she moved down the next staircase toward the library. Students passed her without a second glance as she made a quick clip through the hallways. She was about to move down the final staircase that would lead her to the library when a somewhat grating voice bounced off the cold stones and up to her ears.

"I just don't understand how you could actually tell the difference between Flitterbloom and Devil's Snare. They're supposed to look identical!" It was a female voice, one that sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it. It was quickly followed by,

"Well, if it doesn't try to kill you it's a start."

Neville. Ginny's breath froze in her chest, and then she remembered that she didn't look anything like herself. Neville's easy and carefree laugh mixed with the girl's, and drifted up the staircase to her. She forced her feet to keep moving. She just needed to move right past them and into the library. He had to be standing in her direct route, of all places in the entire bloody castle; he just had to be in her way. She bit back a groan.

"You're so funny, Neville." The grating voice almost cooed and she raised an eyebrow in surprise. It was true, Neville could be funny when he wanted to be, but it was such desperate flirtation she couldn't help but feel curious.

_Focus._ Her brain screamed at her. _Neville is none of your concern anymore. He could be flirting with Hermione and it wouldn't matter to you anymore. Just get to the library_,her brain chanted at her. She almost nodded to herself and stepped onto the landing. She just had to make it past the hallway he was in now.

"Excuse me?" Neville called out to her. Her chest gave a lurch and she swallowed hard before looking up. Hannah Abbott was leaning close to Neville in the empty hallway. She had her blonde curls draped all over the front of her baby pink cardigan, which was quite unbuttoned. Neville was leaning half toward Hannah and half toward an escape; he was smiling, but also had a nervous blush about his cheeks. He took a step away from Hannah to ask, "do you have the time?"

For a moment she panicked. She couldn't say anything; it would tip him off. He seemed to be distracted just enough by Hannah that she would be forgettable. Her dread started pounding in her chest; she refused to even breathe, just in case her mouth disobeyed her. With a shrug of her shoulders and a flash of her empty wrist she quick moved past the two of them and let her curtain of brown hair cover her face. If she flushed at all he'd notice the freckles. Still one of the only things she just couldn't transfigure away.

"Sorry, Hannah, I think I should go." Neville's voice was behind her now.

"But why? Surely you don't have any assignments." Hannah purred. Ginny let out a giant sigh, and as she turned the final corner to the library Neville's voice was almost a whisper inside her head as it echoed off the walls,

"I haven't seen Ginny yet. I need to find her."

She didn't catch what Hannah Abbott might have had to say about that. She broke off in a sprint toward the library, sliding to a stop at the entrance as Madame Pince gave her a warning glare.

"Sorry." She mumbled and carefully walked past the woman. No one seemed to give Ginny a second look before she finally spotted Luna's head bent over some books in a back corner of the library. Her chest compressed with relief and she quickly set her bag down and slumped bonelessly into the seat opposite Luna.

"Oh, hello." Luna gave her a bright smile.

"It's me." Ginny leaned forward, "It's Ginny."

"I knew that. People usually don't like to sit with me otherwise." Luna set her quill down. Ginny felt herself twinge a bit at that statement.

"That's a horrible thing to think, Luna."

"It's no bother to me. I know who my real friends are. Why are you hiding, Ginny?" Luna fixed her silver eyes at her and leaned forward, interested.

"Oh, the usual." Ginny said to the table and then pulled out her books.

"Goblin Mafia? I've heard Quidditch players are having quite a hard time with that these days. It's surprising that you already have a debt to them, Ginny." Luna gave her a concerned look, and Ginny felt the smile freeze to her face for a moment. Then it bubbled in her chest, pushing through her teeth, and she started laughing. Laughing unabashedly at the oddity of it all. Almost immediately she felt something hysterical and painful stab at her gut, just as quickly as the laugh started it dissolve into tears.

Luna was up out of her chair instantaneously and put a reassuring arm over her shoulders as she shuddered and half moaned half laughed into her hands. She could hear a few conversations stutter to a stop around them and forced in a large breath, holding it until her lungs started to burn.

"There, there." Luna rubbed her hand across her shoulders, giving her squeezes of reassurance. She let out the burning breath slowly, willing the control back into herself and took a quick wipe at her face.

"Thanks." Ginny said and pressed her lips together again.

"I brought you something, Ginny." Luna gave her a final squeeze and moved back over to her book bag. Slowly she pulled out a small dark blue book with gold edged pages. A dark and frightening shadow started to crawl up from the hidden depths of Ginny's mind. "I want you to take a deep breath."

"Luna," she exhaled instead. "What is that?"

"It's a diary, Ginny." Luna quietly replied and set the book down between them on the table.

"Is this some kind of fucking joke? Because this isn't funny." Ginny ground out and then sucked in a breath between her clenched teeth. Luna gave her a very long look before she frowned and picked up the book.

"I realized there is something very similar about us Ginny." Luna rolled the book around in her hands. "Publicity."

"What do you mean?" Ginny relaxed her jaw a little against the aching of her teeth, still keeping her eyes directly on the book as Luna shifted it back and forth between her slight hands.

"It hasn't been easy being the daughter of the man behind the Quibbler. I know it's not nearly as much bad press as you've been getting in all those less respectable publications." Luna stopped moving the diary and set it back down between them. "But it's a lonely place to be. You can't confide in people for fear that it will be used against you. It's hard to trust anyone, or their motives."

"Oh, Merlin," Ginny groaned to herself as visions of pelting snow and broken glass and furious pacing assaulted her. She took a painful breath as the area where her heart used to pump gave an awful lurch. Luna reached across the table and grabbed her hands.

"Maybe you should confide in this. It won't whisper your secrets to anyone." Luna gave her hands another squeeze and then pushed the book into her stiff fingers.

"Luna," Ginny let out in a shaky voice as the book laid still in her unresponsive hands.

"It's just a book, Ginny. Nothing is going to hurt you this time." Luna reached back across the table and played with the cover, trying to entice her into opening it. Ginny gulped in a breath and then let her fingers run across the dark blue leather of the cover.

"I don't know." She looked down at the diary between her hands.

"Think about it. Try a page or two. I assure you it will be quite boring." Luna leaned back in her chair. "If you find you still don't like it, chuck it in the fire."

"Okay." She said to the diary and moved it off her books and far down the table, but not in her book bag. She didn't trust it enough yet to let it touch her other books. Eyeing it one more time she pushed away the very dark and dormant thoughts that were trying to surface. "Let's get to work."

"Ginny," Luna laughed and she tore her eyes away from the diary to look at her friend. "It will be fine."

Ginny didn't laugh back, but she forced a smile and pulled out her Charms work.

* * *

~*~

She skipped dinner. Hermione had brought her up a makeshift pile of food: some meat pasties, a few dinner rolls, and an apple. She had set it quietly down on her bedside table without a single word and then slipped back out to do her patrol. Ginny suspected Luna had talked to her again, or perhaps Hermione had finally heeded all of Ginny's dark warnings to just stop trying to help.

She snacked on the food and then closed herself back up in her four-poster cave of solitude. Too exhausted to do any further coursework, and too anxious to even attempt to sleep she had watched the candles float around inside her black cocoon for a few hours, emptying her mind. It was a pleasant feeling; it was the longest stretch of time in the whole day that she hadn't felt some kind of horrible physical reaction to the myriad of emotionally charged problems in her life.

Hermione had silently gotten ready for bed and had mumbled a goodnight before rolling around for a half hour. It wasn't until Hermione was lightly snoring that Ginny moved herself off her bed, her joints popping with protest. She pulled out her book bag and grabbed the diary. Luna's complete faith that she could write in a diary again was refreshing, if not slightly annoying. She couldn't tell if Luna had that much optimism for her, or if Luna just didn't understand the torment the first diary had put her through.

Well, she mused, no one knew the torment the diary had put her through. Except Tom. And Tom was dead. And there was also the issue of the tightly guarded guilt she had over the whole situation: not of what had happened, or all the people she had harmed, or even keeping it a secret until it was too late, she continued to feel guilty that she had liked it. She had liked unloading all her problems and emotions and feelings into the diary at first. It had made her feel light and level headed after she'd scratch her worries across the parchment. It had made her feel important and powerful at first, that as the words sank into the page she knew there would be a response. But it had all gone so wrong so fast, and she knew she could never tell anyone that she would miss writing in the diary, because it had released something so evil. But she had missed writing everything down. And Luna was right. A diary wasn't going to blab all her secrets and problems.

With shaking hands she found a quill and carefully opened the book. It made a cracking sound as the binding yielded upon the first opening. She dipped the quill into the ink and held the pen above the page for what felt like minutes before she let it touch down on the paper.

Nothing happened. The ink just started to pool against the page. She looked around for a moment, and then shook her head at the absurdity of it all. Commanding her hand to obey her she wrote out a single word:

_Hello?_

Nothing. Just her blocky print and a spot of ink. It stuck there, inanimate and permanent. Ginny quickly snapped the diary shut and tossed the quill out onto her bed. She crossed her arms and stared long and hard at the diary. The room seemed to get a bit spinny and she realized she was holding her breath. With a giant exhale she closed her eyes and leaned back against her headboard. Nothing had happened. She didn't know how she felt about that. Before she could start to ponder it she drifted quickly and deeply into her desperately needed sleep.

* * *

~*~

After some coaxing, Hermione had managed to half drag Ginny down to breakfast bright and early Monday morning. They were followed by blatant whispering and pointing, which she was used to. They entered the Great Hall to the sound of hissing conversations and giggling, which she had come to expect. But as they had sat down at their usual seats Seamus had leaned across the table, casually tossed a copy of Luminary Magazine over her empty plate, and let out a laugh before saying,

"So should I send the gift to the attention of Ginny Weasley or Ginny Potter?"

"What," Hermione put a protective hand on Ginny's shoulder, "are you going on about?"

"It's not that uncommon, really. But we're your friends Ginny, you could have at least told us." Seamus laughed again and sat back down in his seat. "Didn't want me to have a go at all your single girlfriends during the reception?"

Ginny gave him a dark look and then looked down at the paper. The same Luminary that seemed to be in everyone's hands, the same Luminary that rustled and crinkled like kindling around her blared with a horribly bold, and throbbing headline:

**POTTER NEAR DEATH AT ST. MUNGO'S! WEASLEY SUMMONED AS MEDICAL PROXY!**

And right under it, in slanted print was:

_A secret wedding? Will Harry Potter ever walk again?_

"Someone just smother me now." Ginny hung her head and put her face in her hands. Quick and fast a flood of tears tickled at the back of her throat and she bit down on her lip to stop them.

"Nonsense. What kind of rubbish is this?" Hermione snapped and looked down both ends of the table. Ginny looked through the cracks in her fingers as the Luminary magazines vanished as students banished them to keep them from Hermione's wrath.

"Nonsense?" Seamus sputtered. "There is no possible way that Ginny could have been named Harry's Medical Proxy unless she was his wife!"

"And why would that be?" Hermione quickly retorted.

"Because the Medical Proxy age is set at 20. With an exception to that rule being marriage. So don't call it rubbish," Seamus leaned across the table and picked his paper back up, "when you don't appear to know Wizarding custom! So when did it happen Ginny?"

Hermione sputtered and gaped fishing for a retort. Seamus locked eyes with Ginny for a moment trying to gauge if he might have pushed too hard. The entire table was silent, not even forks or spoons could be heard touching plates. Ginny released her hands and took a big breath,

"I'm not his wife, Seamus. But I am his Medical Proxy."

The table erupted in noise; the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students started jostling around trying to get a better look. The smile slowly dropped off of Seamus' face. He opened his mouth to start to apologize for bringing so much attention when she held up a hand to stop him,

"And I can assure that he'll walk again."

She pushed up from the table and every set of eyes in the Great Hall turned to her.

"Ginny, I'm sorry. I thought it was a lie, like all the others. I didn't know." Seamus met eyes with her and she shrugged.

"I didn't either until I got there."

She ignored the rumbling of her stomach and grabbed her bag. The Great Hall was still locked, almost frozen, into silence as she heard her shoes echo slightly on her move toward the door. As her hand touched the knob the immediate rush of noise from the Great Hall was almost like a shockwave as it hit the back of her. She quickly closed the door behind herself.

"Ginny!" Neville's voice called out in the hallway behind her and she stopped, but didn't turn. "Where have you been hiding all this time?"

She heard him let out a laugh as he covered the space and placed an arm across her shoulders giving her a tight squeeze.

"Hi, Neville." She continued to look at the floor; she felt it in her toes first. They curled inside her shoes in dread of the conversation she had been avoiding for two days. "I've been busy."

"Busy with what?" Neville smiled and dropped his arm, he moved around her body to stand in front of her and she looked up, but past his shoulder, not making eye contact. Maybe if she didn't make eye contact he'd just let her pass and she could continue to refuse to face the fact that everything between her and Neville was about to change.

"Assignments, practice, just catching up really." Ginny shifted her backpack and looked past his other shoulder. "I need to go."

"But I haven't seen you in what feels like a week. I wanted to catch up with you, let's get some breakfast." Neville grabbed the edge of her cloak and gave it a light tug.

"Not hungry." She tried to pull away from him. Her calves hardened, matching the anxious tension in her toes. Merlin, she wanted to run away. She tamped down the urge.

"Let's not go through that again, Ginny. Did you take your potion? You need to eat something." Neville dropped his voice so that the conversation was private between them. Students were slowly making their way into the Great Hall, passing them with lingering eyes and whispers. She felt her stomach harden with sudden anger.

"You're not my Mum." She furiously whispered. This was not the hospital, this was not her room, he didn't have a right to tell her that. Besides, Neville had never been one to demand those kind of answers out of her before, that job had fallen to…she stopped the thought before his dark hair could even form in her thoughts. Neville took a slow breath trying to read her expression before he moved closer still, her thighs cramped a bit in response, reminding her that she shouldn't be focusing on her anger, she should be focusing on fleeing the forming conversation.

"Is it Harry? Is he alright?" Neville whispered.

"Whatever do you mean?" She spat back. Her legs started to ache a bit as they shuttered with all the pooled anxiety. She swore she could almost feel the thoughts all connecting in his brain as she watched his face. Her legs trembled again and she started tapping her foot trying to appease their flight response.

"Ginny I can tell. I know you." He put a hand on her left shoulder, and her entire left arm tensed in response. "Tell me."

"He's fine. Bloody fantastic." She said through her teeth. Neville's face blanched for a second and then his hand wrapped around her arm and pulled her down the hall. Her legs seemed to spring into action, sensing their chance. She was quickly moving past him, now looking like she was dragging him.

She needed to keep walking forward, she needed to shake his arm and just get up to her classroom and start this hellish day. If they started talking about what had happened at the hospital, then they would start talking about what happened once she left the hospital, it would all lead to the fight. And if it led to the fight she didn't think she could lie, she didn't want to lie, Neville was still her friend. But once the truth was out, once the admission crossed her lips, she knew what Neville would do. She desperately wanted to hold onto the false hope that she had still continued to read his whole relationship with her incorrectly, but deep down in her chest…she'd always known. The thought made her sick. Nothing good was going to come of this conversation. Because no matter how compelling Neville thought he was going to be, no matter how badly his heart bled for her…she could never love him, not like that.

She shook herself from her thoughts to try and prepare herself. But as she took a few more steps around some loitering students Neville's hand clamped down hard on her arm and he pulled her back a bit and into an empty classroom.

Shocked at the roughness of his grab Ginny ripped her arm out of his hand. The momentum made her stumble into a chair and as she righted herself Neville closed the door and stood against it, looking at her with darting and darkening brown eyes. All the tender emotions in her chest whooshed out to be replaced by white-hot anger. Who the hell did he think he was grabbing her like that?

"Get out of my way." Ginny darkly warned.

"What happened?" Neville countered refusing to move from the door.

"Nothing." Ginny crossed her arms over her chest, she'd tell him nothing now.

"Well, he's not dead. I don't think you would have come back if he were." Neville looked her up and down, and she saw it flash across his face, the suspicion. She had to get out of here, now. Ginny took a step toward him and the door.

"I need to go."

"I've heard everyone whispering this morning as I was looking for you. Did Luminary get it right for once? Are you his Medical Proxy?" Neville put his hand on the doorknob and it gave her a jolt of concern. His now dark brown, dilated, eyes seemed to detail her every breath. Somewhere in the back of her mind her old instincts pushed to the surface and she knew that in this moment she needed to tell him this single truth. The truth might pacify him enough to let her leave.

"I am." Ginny felt her legs cramp up again in preparation. She quickly detailed a list of hexes that wouldn't get her expelled. She hoped it didn't come to that, but she didn't like the building look on his face, or the fact that he was blocking the door. When Neville got it in his head that he needed an answer nothing stopped him. She'd learned that much last year.

"So you _are_ his wife?" Neville's hand dropped from the doorknob. Her brain detailed the move, her stomach clenched ready to run. But she instantly felt an exasperated anger fill her.

"How many bloody times do we have to go over this?" Ginny snapped and took a furious step toward him. "I'm not married."

"But," Neville looked confused for a moment, and all the anger, all the dread, and the building fear she had broke apart. Now she recognized her friend, her slightly bumbling, wore his heart on his sleeve, unwaveringly loyal friend. She dropped her stance, her legs relaxed with relief and she shook her head.

"I don't know how he did it, but he did. I'm his Proxy and not his wife. Deal with it." To her horror she felt a shudder of tears start in the bottom of her lungs. She could decide if he lived or died, but she wasn't allowed to love him anymore. She took a steadying breath; her brain shook a bit with all the building emotions brewing within herself.

"Then what are you so upset about? You got everything you wanted, didn't you?" Neville snapped at her. Just as quickly as she had thought he was finally going to act normal he went back to his…mood. Through the threatening tears and the swirling emotions she took a look at him and saw it, saw what she was so afraid of seeing: his desperate anger. She'd seen that exact look only a few days ago on another man; her heart gave a horrible lurch. She couldn't deal with this. Not today, she needed more time.

"Everything I wanted," she let out a bitter laugh. "I need to go."

She moved for the door, their cloaks brushed as her fingers closed around the knob, and Neville's hands came down on her shoulders to stop her.

"Ginny." He squeezed.

"What?" She froze at the door. Neville's warm hands cupped her shoulders and he turned her around to face him. She took a few sideway steps against the urging of his hold, her back now toward the corner of the room, just a few steps away from the shelves of old books and empty vials. The anger gone now she only heard the desperation as he said,

"Tell me what happened."

White faced and expectant he held his breath, waiting for her response. This was it. This was the moment she had been avoiding. She could feel the anxiety and desperation in the air, she could sense the hurt and the irreconcilable disaster of how these next words were going to change everything start to form around them, and decided to just put paid to it.

"He broke up with me. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"He what?" Neville's face dropped into shock and something else, something so closely guarded and quick across his features that she almost didn't catch it. But as it had flashed across his light brown eyes, and as his fingers had dug into her shoulders, there was no mistaking it: hope.

"He broke up with me." She said again, this time the tears that had been pooling in her chest filled up toward her tender heart. Saying it, saying those words made it seem all too real, and so raw against her psyche that she felt like flinching. "That's what happened."

"Why would he do that?" Neville asked incredulously, his firm grip on her shoulders slackened and slowly started to move down her arms. A desperate feeling shot off in her mind. Couldn't he just take it for what it was? She could barely stand speaking about it, let along rehashing the reasons. Although a dark part of her knew that was coming as well.

"Please," she whispered and looked away, a lump forming in her throat. "Don't make me say it."

"But it doesn't make any sense." Neville murmured as his hands ran back up her shoulders, one of them ran across her shoulder blades as he noticed her building misery. It was something he used to do last year and remembering the action filled her with a horrible guilt. Instantly the tears broke through the lump in her throat and filled her eyes, blurring her vision. It came flooding back; the fractured lamp pieces across the floor, the white flurries pouring into the room, feeling the shards of glass cut into her feet but letting her frantic desperation cut over any other emotion she might have.

"Of course it makes fucking sense." She thickly said and wiped at her face. She let her book bag fall to the floor with a bang; Neville's quickly fell after it.

"What?" Neville squeezed her shoulders again, the desperate hope written all over his face.

"You!" Ginny sobbed through her building tears. "It was you! He broke up with me because of you!"

"Ginny," Neville moved to pull her closer for a hug and she backed away from him. Something snapped in her chest and against the onslaught of tears she let it all spill out. The pain, the hurt, the guilt, the horror at what she had let happen. She didn't hold any emotion back now: he wanted to have this horrible conversation, he wanted to know this awful truth, she'd let him have it.

"From the beginning it's been you. At the hospital, when I woke up," she sobbed seeing a flash of Harry after the funeral, as his dark eyes looked her and Neville over, "with all that fucking Jello!"

"No." Neville took a step toward her, and she stuck a hand out stopping him.

"Then when I got home, you'd come and visit and I'd talk with you. I'd talk to _you_ when Harry had slept in that chair by my bed for days and I'd never say a single word to him!" She rubbed the back of her hand against the stream of tears, as another series of quick flashes moved across her blurry vision: of Harry sleeping in the armchair, of Harry watching her pretend to eat, of Harry covering her with blankets all while she refused to speak, and the final memory of him standing in her mangled doorway, arms crossed over his chest.

"Please," Neville moved toward her again, and her already outstretched hand landed on his chest to stop him as he moved forward. He put a heavy, warm palm on her shoulder.

"And the Room of Requirement. Oh Merlin." She sobbed again, feeling the tears continue to pool and surge up from her broken core. "What was I fucking thinking? Why would I do that? Why would I betray him like that?"

"It wasn't a betrayal." Neville quickly shot in. She turned her hot and tearful face up toward him, fixing him with an unbelieving stare through her misery.

"Of course it was!" She yelled at him.

"Ginny," he lifted his other hand and brushed some tears from her cheek. Everything clenched, coiled, froze: every muscle, every emotion, every tear, even her breath stopped as he caressed her cheek with a gentle finger.

"No," she barely whispered. "No,no, no." She whispered through her teeth and took a hiccupped breath. She could feel it coming, his desperate hope reaching a perfect swell around them.

"I just…I've been waiting…" he swallowed hard and moved in.

It only took two steps to avoid him and his hands as they attempted to bring her close, before she felt her body smack against the corner of the cold castle stone. The arm that had been keeping him distant folded against his advance, her elbow slammed into the wall. She took a surprised breath as his hand slid over her shoulder toward her upper back, and as she pulled her head away avoiding his lowering face, it knocked against the castle wall.

The memories flooded her: Harry's hands cupping the back of her head at Shell Cottage so she wouldn't hit her head, and again in her bedroom as they'd fallen against the wall when he said he loved her, and yet again in his room against his door several, several times. Over and over they played in her mind, all the times he had protected her in those moments of passion.

The coiling of her body, the frozen shock that had filled her broke free in a sudden rush of blood to her head. Merlin, she didn't want this! She didn't want to make this horrible situation worse by letting him kiss her. She had never loved him that way, she had never even liked him that way, despite all her mixed signals. All her unchecked flirting, all the times she could have been colder to him to reinforce her platonic feelings had created this disaster. She had only ever wanted Harry, and now she was being forced to pay the price for all her mistakes. Harry might never want her again, but she wasn't going to continue making mistakes by being passive. She cocked back her arms, braced herself against the wall for leverage, and shoved Neville away from her as hard as she could. Neville stumbled back, tripping over the backpacks with a wounded look in his eyes.

"Stay back!" She yelled, tears starting to cloud her eyes again as she pulled out her wand.

"Ginny! I thought…" he moved toward her and she shook her wand, its tip buzzing as another swelling of emotion ripped through her.

"You thought wrong! It's always been Harry. It will always be Harry. I'll always want him even if he doesn't want me anymore. Just say away from me Neville!" She sobbed and swished her wand viciously through the air. Neville was blown back, falling into the tables and chairs. She made her break, her fist closed in around on the handle of the door, she threw it open and sprinted out of the room pushing the group of people that had gathered around the door out of her way.

"Ginny!" She heard Hermione, Dean, and Seamus call out to her but she ran, and ran and ran. Up the stairs, tearing past portraits as they scolded her for running, slipping across the cold stone, as she rounded the final corner to the common room. The Fat Lady swung open as the remaining students made their way out for breakfast and she shoved them aside and bolted up the steps to the girl's dormitories.

"Ginny!" Seamus and Dean's voices called out to her from the Fat Lady but she slammed her dormitory door behind herself and swung her wand wide,

"_Accio_ potions! _Accio_ George's sock!" The objects flew out from her side drawer and into her hand. Below her she heard Hermione's frantic voice and three sets of footsteps pounding up the stairs, followed immediately by the wailing screech of the staircase alarm, no doubt trying to dump Seamus and Dean as they raced up the steps with Hermione. She ran for the bathroom, locked the door and ripped out a sleeping draught, and then a second, and then a third. With shaky hands she set them all down on the counter. With one hand she grabbed her sock, and with the other she held onto the first sleeping potion.

She couldn't deal with it. She just couldn't handle all the disaster that continued to befall her these last few days. Walking in on a half dead Harry as he lay bleeding in a hospital bed, being up for two days and fighting off Healers and Mediwitches, fighting with her parents, realizing the kind of control Harry had given her, only to be told the very next day that he didn't trust her anymore. That he needed time away from her when all they ever had was time apart. And now having Neville almost kiss her and confess his feelings despite her trying to keep him back…she couldn't do it. She needed to stop it, at least for a little bit, at least for half a day. She needed to slip back into her coma, like the first time her life had swelled to a point she just could not bear.

Her lungs were heaving with tears and exertion, her chest filled with a horrible pressure of emotions, she fumbled with the wax top and tossed it into the sink and threw back the first potion. Hot tears started to pour down her face, pooling on the counter as she tossed the wax from a second bottle into the sink. With shaking hands she looked into the mirror. She didn't recognize the person in front of her, she tipped back the second one and let the glass vial break against the counter. The frantic eyes of the stranger in front of her looked toward the counter at the third vial. One too many. She didn't need that, just the darkness, not death.

The room started to swirl with the effects of the potion, the edges of her consciousness. She grabbed the third vial and stumbled on wobbly legs. With a teeter she fell against the wall and slid down it. Her darkness, the suffocating blackness that had forced her into submission in the hospital, beckoned her back into its arms. The room started to fade to black. She heard Hermione and Seamus and Dean still struggling against the uncooperative staircase. Her thready heartbeat slowed, the ache in her chest lessoned, the third vial rolled out of her slack fingers as she lost all the details around her. Her world became shadows and darkness except for the tiny strip of light from then bottom of the bathroom door that burned bright against her failing eyes. Then the door exploded with blinding light as it burst open slowly, as if she were underwater.

"Ginny!" Hermione's terrified voice filled the bathroom as she shimmered into view. "No!"

The shadows all but disappeared as the blackness narrowed to make Hermione just movement in front of her eyes. She felt her fist clench around the sock in her hand and let her eyes slide shut. In that final moment between consciousness and coma, she felt two sets of hands grab her and heard Hermione yell out, though it sounded like it was coming through water,

"How many? How many Ginny?"

And then she was back in Harry's bedroom, the night he had kidnapped her from Hogwarts.

_A half smile pulled across his face, without his glasses on, black hair messed across his forehead, he leaned back against the headboard of his bed, and fixed his brilliant green eyes on her. The grey sheets were swimming all around them and he stretched above his head, shirtless, and then said in a scratchy and warm voice,_

_ "I could get used to that, Ginny." He blushed a bit and then leaned forward to kiss her and whispered, "I love you."_

"Harry," she felt the word bubble past her numb lips, her fingers released the sock, and she let go.

* * *

~*~

"Miss Weasley?"

Ginny kept her eyes shut as the voice fell across her ears. She still had some lingering sleepiness from the double sleeping draught in her system, it was making everything fuzzy and disorienting. Cool hands pressed something onto her forehead and the sound of a quill scratching slowly filtered into her brain.

So she was on the fourth floor again? She should have known. She wondered if they'd let her paint the walls yellow since she'd obviously be staying forever now.

"Miss Weasley?" The voice asked again. She ignored the voice this time and instead tried, desperately, to fall back asleep. She didn't need to be awake anymore anyway. If she had finally cracked up again, and was back in her pink hell on the fourth floor, she'd be happy to just sleep off the next ten years. Maybe a decade from now Harry would be married with children and everyone would have forgotten about her and she could just move on with her life, finally.

"I know you're awake Miss Weasley. So either you are going to open your eyes or I will find a way to open them for you." Jenna ordered. Ginny shot her eyes open, she was quite aware of the sadistic nature of Jenna now.

Her burning eyes took in her surroundings. Vaulted ceiling, castle walls, horribly lumpy cot. She hadn't been sent back to St. Mungo's. She was still at…

"Hogwarts. Yes." Jenna filled in the blanks for her. "I honestly hadn't expected to see you again so soon Miss Weasley."

"That makes two of us." Ginny rasped and took a dry swallow.

"Are you insinuating that you intended to kill yourself by taking sleeping draughts?" Jenna calmly asked.

"No." Ginny exhaled and turned her head to look at the empty infirmary.

"Two draughts you've done quite a few times. It's three that would have been too many. But you knew that, didn't you?" Jenna pulled the slip off her forehead. "Such a shame, green. You were making such progress."

Ginny just continued to look at all the empty cots. Green. Green was probably too sick to go back to all her classes, green was too sick to be Captain. Green was too sick to try out for the Harpies. And in an instant she saw everything she'd worked so hard for, everything she'd slaved over in the last few months vanish like smoke into the air. Her eyes filled with silent tears and she let them fall down her face. She'd lost everything now.

"Miss Weasley," Jenna quietly said and waited until Ginny inclined her head toward her voice. "We have a lot of work to do."

"Work," Ginny let out a thick, tearful laugh. It came out of her chest bitter and mournful. "There's nothing left to do now."

"You don't believe that." Jenna put a hand on her blanketed leg. Ginny looked right into her face and choked out,

"I'm too sick to stay here. I'm too sick to finish school. I'm too sick to try out for the Harpies. My friends are either mad at me or scared of me now. And Harry doesn't love me anymore. There's nothing to work out."

"Who said you were too sick to stay? It wasn't me. On the contrary, I think staying at Hogwarts and finishing up your schooling is exactly what you need to do. I have since the first time I met you." Jenna flicked her wand and Ginny felt her pillows plump as she was slowly moved up into a sitting position. "I also don't see why you'd think you're too sick to try out for the Harpies. You are in tremendously better shape since our check-up."

"They won't want me now, I'm all cracked u…u…p." Ginny stuttered with a shuddering tearful breath.

"Finally, I know for a fact that your friends are neither mad nor scared of you. They set off the chain reaction that alerted your Head of House to report to the Headmistress, who in turn made your mother contact me and created my personal summons to the school. Being angry or frightened by you would hardly warrant that kind of response. It just shows concern and affection." Jenna checked the scroll by her head. "And my check-up with Mr. Potter this afternoon showed him to be in a rather dire state as well. It would appear that this fight did no good for either of you."

"Please, don't." Ginny moaned and put her tearful face into her hands.

"Which is why I informed Mr. Potter that his disruptive presence would not be needed here today after he attempted to storm out of the Headmistresses office and down here to you. Your brother, Ron I believe, barely managed to contain him before they were sent off via portkey." Jenna crossed her arms over her chest and waited. Ginny let her hands drop slowly, her face still puffy with tears, and very cautiously whispered,

"He came?"

"Why did you take two sleeping draughts Miss Weasley?" Jenna asked her point blank.

"I…" she started and then stopped.

"Why did you ask a diary a question?" Jenna asked next and flicked her wand to reveal the blue and gold book.

"I…" she felt her voice cut off in her throat. No one was supposed to find that, it was in the sock, she'd made sure of that before she'd left for class this morning. Jenna flicked her wand a few more times and laid out the diary, the vial, the amulet, and the black jacket down on her bed next to the sock.

"Why were you hiding all these things Miss Weasely?" Jenna looked for a moment at all the objects and then fixed her piercing eyes onto her.

"I don't know." Ginny whispered.

"Lots of work. We have lots of work to do." Jenna nodded and with a flick of her wand all the objects flew back into the sock and into her hand. "But first, you need some more sleep. You are horribly distraught, I dare say near hysterical again. All this action over the past few days has exhausted you, and you need to let your body catch back up."

Ginny nodded once and then bowed her head.

"I will be back tomorrow morning, this draught should last you until then. It's been set for twelve hours exactly. I will be back tomorrow morning at 7AM sharp to start our sessions." Jenna tucked the sock into her robes and flicked her wand at the far door. It slowly opened to reveal her Mum and Dad first, Ron and Hermione quickly after, and then it shut. Jenna put one final reassuring hand on her leg and then moved toward Madame Pomfrey's office.

"Ginny, love?" Her Mum called out to her before she reached the bed first and ran a quick hand over her hair, then pulled her close to land a long kiss on her forehead.

"Mum, I'm so sorry." She managed feeling the tears pick up again.

"It's alright, honey." Her Mum whispered and kissed her again. Her Dad came up next and kissed her temple.

"How are you feeling now?" Her Dad's voice was deep with emotion and she felt a knot of tears contract in her stomach as they raced up her body and out across her already wet face.

"Horrible," she cried and her parent's crushed her closely to them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," Jenna's voice called out from the opposite end of the infirmary. "If I could have a word."

"We'll be right back, love." Her Mum murmured into her hair and they let her go to reveal Ron, frowning and red faced and Hermione who seemed to barely be controlling her tears.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione. I'm so sorry." Ginny sobbed and closed her eyes. Hermione's cold hands quickly landed on her arm and she looked up into her friend's face. "Please forgive me."

"It's okay, Ginny." Hermione nodded, some tears spilled down her face and she grabbed her arm tighter.

"No it's not, and I'm sorry." Ginny cried and then tried to contain herself by sucking in a deep, shaking breath.

"Just don't do that again, alright?" Hermione wiped at her face.

"Alright." Ginny nodded and wiped at her own face. Her eyes landed on Ron who continued to stare at her with his watery blue eyes and flushed cheeks. "Ron?"

"I'm going to strangle him." Ron shook his head, his cheeks turned an angry red and Hermione turned from the both of them, starting to cry again.

"Who?" Ginny asked feeling her chest tighten in anticipation. She knew who, she just didn't want to believe it.

"You know!" Ron exploded. The murmuring of her parents and Jenna in the corner stopped, Hermione let out an audible sob. "You already know how I felt about all this Ginny. I _knew_ he'd break your heart again, and you didn't listen to me! Neither of you did! And now look at what's happened, I'm going to strangle him."

"Ron you don't mean that." She said through her tears, vaguely aware of the adults moving back toward the weeping, angry mess that was forming.

"Like hell I don't!" Ron fumed, Hermione let out another sniffling sob with her back still turned to the both of them.

"You don't mean that, he's your best mate." Ginny ran her sleeve across her face trying to mop up all her tears.

"Don't tell me what I mean and don't mean, Ginny. I can't even look at him right now." Ron moved away from her bed and Ginny felt her heart speed up in her chest her mind clearing of tears to be replaced with a growing fear.

"What do you mean? Did you just leave him there?"

"Of course I did! I get a hysterical Floo call from Hermione, she was sobbing that you were unconscious. I don't even have a moment to react before she just cuts it off and Mum Floos me about needing to go to Hogwarts. Of course Harry overhears this and is gone in an instant. Then a portkey comes shooting through the fireplace because McGonagall summons me to Hogwarts when Harry refuses to leave after Jenna tells him to." He leveled his furious stare at Jenna for a moment. "I had to drag his arse back to the flat, and we landed and just start shoving and yelling at each other. I nearly swung at him before I told him this was all his fucking fault and left him there. Not like I can tell him to clear off in his own bloody house. I went to the Burrow and Mum brought me back with her when Jenna told us you'd be waking up." Ron trembled before her with his barely controlled fury and her stomach flashed with the fear that had been brewing. She pushed up from her reclined position and moved toward him.

"No! No you can't just leave him alone! He needs someone there with him, Ron! You know that!" She felt the tears start back up choking her words as she fought to continue. "He needs you right now."

"Fuck what he needs, he should have thought of that before he made you crack up again." Ron spat out and crossed his arms, bright red with anger. Hermione's whole body shook with tears to the side of her and Ginny fixed her anxious eyes on her parents and Jenna. Her Mum and Dad looked at her with apprehension before she blurted out,

"Mum! Mum you have to go over there. He's going to do something stupid. You know how he gets. Someone has to go over there." She pleaded moving across her bed and grabbing a hold of her mother's sleeve.

"Of course, dear. Of course. I'll go check up on Harry." Her Mum soothed and gave a quick glance at both her Dad and Jenna. Jenna gave Ginny a very peculiar look, something akin to curious dissection.

"It's time Miss Weasley," Jenna held out the vial of sleeping draught and waited until Ginny grabbed onto it. She looked from the still shaking Hermione, to Ron vibrating with anger, and finally to her somewhat shellshocked parents before glancing at Jenna again.

"But…"

"Twelve hours exactly." Jenna gave her a promising smile and with a swish of her wand the seal was broken and Ginny felt a woozy pulse from just the fumes.

"We love you honey." Her Mum blinked away tears as she landed a soft hand on the crown of her head.

"Promise me." Ginny looked deep into her Mother's eyes waiting for the answer. Her Mum gave her a small nod and she tipped back the vial. It hit her stomach and almost immediately took effect. But not before she could hear Jenna's voice lightly echo in her thoughts,

"Lots of work."

* * *

~*~

Author's Notes: This chapter would, quite literally, not be here if not for the help of my amazing editor TOW Gunner. I had to write it from scratch, and his patents and encouragement are what made this possible. So should you feel the need...drop him a line, he should be thanked as much as me for this one!


	27. Chapter 27

Soooo...that took a while, hu? Sorry everyone, I did not abandon you, I just had massive problems with this chapter. And after two total re-writes (my editor absolutely HATED the first draft - I believe the word emo-fest was thrown around in anger when describing it) I give you the next chapter. I'm hoping ten extra pages will pacify you...please put the rotten veggies back down now. And rest assured that I intend to never have this long of a break again! Enjoy!

BTW - it's not saving my usual ~*~ breaks so sorry for all these long lines.

* * *

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 27~

_I can't let myself regret, such selfishness,  
My pain and all the trouble caused, no matter how long,  
I believe that there's hope, buried beneath it all_

_Let the Flames Begin by Paramore_

_

* * *

_

_Fog. It rolled in thick and dense, so much so that when she raised her arm her hand was swallowed in the grey cloud. She could hear the ocean; the waves were crashing against the rocks hidden in the fog. It was the only thing she could hear, and all she could see was grey. She looked down at her dress, and then the flash of goosebumps as they raced across her skin; it was freezing down at the water's edge. She expected to look down and see snow, but it was just the multicolored rocks of Brighton Beach. _

_A shadow moved within the fog and she froze. It moved again, so close that the cloud broke around the form to let her make out shoulders, and a dark head, and then the stranger turned a bit and she saw the outline of glasses._

"_Harry." It cut off in her throat as a whisper. She started moving toward him, the rocks slipping and rolling under her bare feet. The shadow moved back into the fog disappearing and she frantically started swishing her hands in front of herself, trying to make it dissipate. She caught another movement of shadow and forced herself to call out this time,_

"_Harry! Please!"_

_The shadow disappeared again and she forced herself to continue forward, the rocks started to get slippery, slimy, and she dared not look down - just in case she was about to fall into another nightmarish flashback. She focused on the task at hand. She had to find him. She moved through the fog and almost ran into him; he stood there, fog cutting across him in wisps and waited, silently, for her._

"_I'm so sorry, please, just wait for me. Please, Harry. Please." She cried as she tried to reach out and touch him, but no matter how hard she reached she made no progress. She tried to grab him, leaning toward him, her feet slipped on the skuzzy rocks, her dress started to stick to her clammy skin, he was just a step away, and yet miles away, when an overwhelming amount of heat blasted her. She fought against it, tried to ignore it, went to grab him, and her hands sank through the fog as the dark shadow of him mixed with the grey fog and swirled around to leave her with nothing. Just the empty beach. She sank to the rocks. The ocean water swelled from the dim distance to quickly rush back in and lap around her frozen body in an unexpectedly warm surge. She held her breath, closed her eyes, and waited to drown._

* * *

She woke up gasping for breath and struggled to sit up. Sweating and shaking, blood pounding, she forced her eyes open and let out a dry cough. The infirmary was still dark as she tried to move her sleep-stiff legs. Her hands landed on something warm and fuzzy and she clenched her fists around it, as the final dredges of her nightmare lingered in her sleepy hazy brain. She looked down and her breath caught in her chest. A yellow blanket. Her eyes roamed over the small infirmary cot at the huge blanket that covered her and was nearly dropping to the floor on either side. A flush from the sheer heat of it and her emotions swathed her body and she felt her swollen eyes twitch, preparing for the next onslaught of tears. Something both hopeful and hysterical built up in her throat. She pulled the fabric up to her face and sucked in a shaky breath, and let the tears spill across it. He had come. He had come and he had made her a blanket. A sob broke free from her chest as she continued to smother her tears. She had no idea how he managed to do it, but like most things with Harry he always found a way.

"Miss Weasley?" Jenna's voice cut through her cries as she pulled the blanket up toward herself, hugging it to her body and held back another sob by taking deep breaths. Hope and desperation, regret and love, pain and determination all fought for her attention as she pulled the blanket away from her face to wrap it around her achy body.

"Is everything alright?" Madame Pomfrey's voice called out as she approached her bed.

"Do you care to explain, Miss Weasley?" Jenna's concerned voice reached her and she looked up through her blurry eyes.

"Blanket," she choked and Jenna looked at the yellow wrapping around her as Ginny blubbered, "last night." Jenna eyed Madame Pomfrey.

"I can assure you, I saw no one in this room last night. There is a very strict curfew and visiting hours set into place here at the castle." Madame Pomfrey looked at the blanket with apprehension.

"Invisi…bility cloak," Ginny stuttered on her tears and wiped her face against the yellow fabric. Both understanding and amused annoyance crossed Madame Pomfrey's face before she crossed her arms over her chest and said,

"If anyone could find a way to break into this castle and sneak into _my_ infirmary without being detected it would be Potter."

"I supposed this is good as any place to start." Jenna nodded and conjured a chair. "Poppy, do you think you could bring up some breakfast for Miss Weasley while we start today's session?"

"Of course," Madame Pomfrey gave a bemused smile to Ginny and then shook her head before walking away. Ginny felt the anxiety of the coming line of questions start to heat her up, coupled with the heat radiating out of the blanket she felt a small sweat start to form as she looked up at Jenna.

"Miss Weasley," Jenna paused as she pulled out 'the sock' from her robes and tossed it at the bed. Next she conjured a table, flicked her wand to make Ginny's file spread open across it, flicked her wand again to make a self-inking quill and some parchment land on top of the file, and looked at her, "we're going to start from you taking the sleeping draughts and go back from there, all the way to the beginning."

"Beginning of what?" Ginny sniffled, she was skeptical that any of this was going to work. She was obviously cracked up for good now. If she couldn't deal with the pressure of school and she started sobbing at the sight of yellow blankets she was as good as 'crazy'.

"That's what I am here to find out." Jenna folded her hands over the file and took a breath. "What happened before you took the two sleeping draughts?"

"I went into the bathroom." Ginny huffed and looked at the far wall. She expected Jenna to make some kind of quick retort but instead the woman just held her attentive silence and continued to stare at her with an open face.

"I will take as little or as many details as you need." Jenna nodded for her to continue and Ginny frowned down at her hands. It would appear that the series of events over the last four days were going to come out no matter what.

"I got into a fight with Neville."

"And Neville is?" Jenna prompted; Ginny felt a shock of annoyance pass through her. Jenna knew who Neville was, she saw him every single year when he'd visit his parents, and she had watched him dote on her in the hospital during her horrific stay. She felt like growling at the woman and her incessant prying, she must have been in Slytherin.

"You know who he is!" Ginny snapped. "And he's annoying!"

"How?" Jenna remained blank faced.

"Because your best friend isn't supposed to hit on you, he isn't supposed to try to kiss you, and be happy that your boyfriend broke up with you! He's supposed to know he's your best friend and only that." Ginny punctuated this by slamming her hands down onto her legs, but the hit was muffled by the blanket.

"What happened before Neville attempted to kiss you?" Jenna watched the quill for a moment as it scratched down everything that was transpiring between them.

"I came back to school from Harry's flat." She quietly answered. Just as she had suspected a shot of pain hit in her chest at having to say his name.

"And before you arrived at Hogwarts? What transpired at Mr. Potter's flat?" Jenna leaned forward a little.

"We fought. He told me he needed some space. Then he left." Ginny looked away from Jenna and the scratching quill.

"And before that?" Jenna continued as if that quiet admission wasn't the bulk of the problems.

"I was sleeping at his house," Ginny sighed.

"And before that?" Jenna prodded, Ginny gave her a glare and Jenna nodded. "You were at the hospital before Mr. Potter's discharge."

Jenna looked back down at her file, skimming through pages and pages of information and looking back and forth at what was in the file and what was written on the parchment. The quill was hanging in the air now, waiting for the next chance to transcribe her words. Ginny leaned back on the bed.

"Miss Weasley," Jenna started and flicked her wand absently to make the sock on her bed fly up into her hand. With another flick the items within it seemed to jump out of the sock and landed on the table. Jenna picked up the jacket, "care to explain this?"

"It's his." Ginny closed her eyes.

"Whose?" Jenna prompted.

"Harry." She choked, and felt the tears sting in her eyes again.

"And this amulet?" She heard Jenna pick it up off the table.

"They're all his. They're all…him. He gave me the amulet, I stole the jacket from his flat, and the shells are from Brighton Beach." Ginny exhaled and pulled a corner of the blanket up to wipe her face.

"And the sock?" Jenna's quiet voice sounded loud in the empty room.

"It's from George, my brother."

"And when did you write in this diary, Miss Weasley?" Jenna flipped a page and the quill scratched down the last of her words before Ginny opened her eyes again and looked at her.

"Sunday."

"Alright," Jenna nodded, looked at the papers a final time and then cleared her throat. "Miss Weasley, do you know why I cleared you to go back to Hogwarts?"

"To torment me?" Ginny scowled at her blanket and started picking invisible lint off it. Jenna pulled her file off the table and stood.

"When your father appeared in my triage that day, holding you in his arms, we had all assumed the worst. If you weren't already dead it was going to take a lot to bring you back around. Patient 306." Jenna pulled her hospital bracelet out of the file and held it in front of her. Ginny eyed it before swallowing hard. "Once you were on a cot and we started working on you I was optimistic that we could save you, at least salvage you so that you could lead a quiet sort of life."

"You thought I was cracked up for good?" Ginny frowned.

"At first, yes. You showed all the classic symptoms of a total breakdown. Hysteria, loss of consciousness, refusal of sustenance, loss of magic, the symptoms were all there. And it was heartbreaking to watch your family being forced away because you couldn't be conscious around them. At least not in the first three days." Jenna set the bracelet back into the file.

"I don't remember that." Ginny whispered and felt tears prickle in her eyes. Hermione had told her that, but she still seemed to be blocking it out. Most of that first week at St. Mungo's was locked away now.

"I then watched a young man refuse medical attention for the first 48 hours of your stay as he paced your room because he was the only person you didn't become hysterical at." Jenna looked down at her folder and started flipping through the pages of it, searching for something. "And he needed medical attention. But he wouldn't give in until you were stabilized."

"What was wrong with Harry?" Ginny leaned forward, her voice thick with tears, but her brain wouldn't let her see this. She couldn't remember Harry being sick, just his trainers squeaking across the floor.

"He was hit with a Killing Curse, Miss Weasley." Jenna leveled her eyes with her, but didn't elaborate. Ginny swallowed hard and stayed quite as Jenna nodded and then flipped to the page she seemed to be looking for. "But it was one evening, about a week into your stay that changed my opinion of you." Jenna smirked at the page in the file and then placed the folder into Ginny's lap and pointed at the entry.

Ginny looked down at the short list of jotted notes, things were underlined and stared as well, in Jenna's neat and slanted handwriting:

_Shifts still in place. Mr. Potter's night. Relieved Miss Granger._

_Potter seems to be healing well from his injuries appears to still have lingering exhaustion. Could possibly be due to lack of sleep._

_Talk to Shelby about dosage of Potter's sleeping potion, if he took the script at all._

_Patient still upset by sight of family but not Potter or Granger. Although Grange makes her anxiety rise slightly. Possibly could be because of direct link to brother._

_Patient is still refusing to eat we will have to start an appetite booster._

_Patient is continuing to need the use of sleeping aids as well as heavy doses of Draught of Peace. _

_Remember to speak to family about the possible need to move her to the permanent ward._

_*Patient spoke first sentence to me during nightly rounds. Looked up at me while using the loo and asked, "So am I ever left alone?"_

_Remember__ to speak to family about short term care plans we'll set in place for when patient is discharged._

_Prognosis is for another week in care, therapy in future._

"That's the reason you cleared me for Hogwarts?" Ginny looked up from the notes, utterly confused.

"You had only said two other words in six days, and those two other words were 'close them' in reference to your curtains. It showed me the biggest indicator of progress you could have ever shown me. Humor. It was dark humor, but it was there." Jenna leaned forward and picked the file back up, closing it.

"Humor?" Ginny gave her a skeptical look.

"Miss Weasley, I don't think you understand how closely you came to a point of no return. I had informed your family and Mr. Potter that there was more of a chance of you never regaining your true self ever again than there was of you coming back. But after a week of bleakness, when you finally did come around, your first sentence to me was sarcastic!" Jenna absolutely beamed at her. "That's never happened to me before, in my twenty years of work so far. I knew you would make it. You wouldn't ever be the same person you were before, but you could live."

"No offense, but I think you were a little off. I might be living, but this isn't a life." Ginny pushed the blanket off her body feeling the cold of the infirmary race across her skin giving her goosebumps.

"You have more of a life than most. You have too much life to live recently, Miss Weasley." Jenna set her file back down onto the table and glanced at the quill that continued to feverishly catch everything being said between them.

"But wouldn't that mean I shouldn't go back to Hogwarts?"

"No," Jenna quickly answered. "You needed the stability of order. You needed the repetition; you needed to know exactly what was going to happen every day. Hogwarts was as close to that kind of environment as you could get without me having to send you away. I knew that you would be having a heavy work load, I also required you to try out for Quidditch. I was purposely trying to make you busy Miss Weasley. I just hadn't factored in the disruptive nature of Mr. Potter."

"Harry's not that bad." Ginny defended immediately.

"Then please tell me, exactly, who did derail all your stability Miss Weasley if it wasn't Mr. Potter." Jenna folded her hands over her file and waited.

Ginny took a big breath and held it. If all Jenna had intended for her to do was go to school and play Quidditch she had fulfilled that. She was always overburdened with work because of coming back. And all things considered Harry was a tad disruptive. Every time he'd made an appearance it had stopped her schedule and she'd be forced to catch back up. Yet she couldn't blame Harry for that, he hadn't ever meant it that way. But if she had just told him no…Ginny darkly laughed in her head. When had she ever told him no?

"I don't know. But I know it's not Harry." She gave Jenna a hard look, she wouldn't budge on this.

"I see." Jenna nodded and then flipped open her folder again. "Perhaps you should think about that. Really think about it. Because the same reason that I cleared you to go back to Hogwarts is the same reason that all your stability is derailed whenever Mr. Potter enters the picture."

"And what's that?" Ginny watched the quill scratch down her words and then float silently between them.

"That's your first assignment from me." Jenna waved her wand and plucked the quill out of the air to start writing something down on a new piece of parchment on the table.

"Assignment? Like a class?" Ginny groaned, rolled her neck and looked up at the ceiling. "Haven't we established that I'm all booked up now?"

"You are only a week away from your Christmas Holiday. This tiny little assignment won't take up too much of your time." Jenna finished up on the parchment and tightly rolled the scroll before sealing it. "I am going to be back tomorrow. You will start having your breakfast hour with me instead of with your classmates every day until you leave for Christmas Holiday. And then we will set your schedule and the location of where we will continue our meetings once you arrive back home."

Jenna shoved the notes taken on the session into her file, closed it, and with a flick of her wand everything disappeared but the scroll in her hand. Taking a few steps she stopped in front of Ginny, tapped her wand against the scroll, it burned bright silver for a moment, and then handed it over to Ginny.

"So I take it my meeting will be here in the infirmary?" Ginny took the scroll from Jenna and put it in her lap.

"Correct." Jenna smiled. "Hopefully that scroll will be open by tomorrow, but don't be discouraged if it isn't."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ginny eyed the scroll.

"It's sealed. It will only open if you say the password. The password is the answer to the question I posed to you. And on the scroll will be the things you need to prepare for my next visit." Jenna took a few steps away from the bed and Ginny raised her hands to stop her.

"What if I can't open the scroll before our meeting?" Ginny called out to her leaving form. Jenna stopped at the door and turned to face her.

"I have faith you in Miss Weasley. You'll figure it out."

With that the door clicked shut and Ginny looked down at the suddenly foreboding looking roll of paper. Madame Pomfrey appeared only moments after and set down an enormous plate of food in front of her.

"I'll be keeping you for observation for another day. You'll be released most likely by dinner. But I think you should use this time wisely Miss Weasley, and catch up on all your course work."

"Thanks." Ginny gave her a weak smile and grabbed a piece of toast. She looked at the scroll again, and then shook her head and tried to make a list of all she would have to do today. First on the list…letter to her Mum.

* * *

When she came up for air from all her course work catch up it felt like her head was swimming. Her eyes wouldn't focus for a moment, her mind spun, and she let out a long groan. Hours later and she still felt like she hadn't made a dent. She was going to need Hermione. Ginny looked around the empty infirmary again before her stomach let out a loud groan. Lunch. She needed lunch before she attacked all this again. Putting the books on her side table Ginny pulled out the scroll from Jenna again. What could she possibly connect that involved both coming back to Hogwarts and Harry 'derailing' her? Maybe it was a trick question. As she pondered this the infirmary door swung open to reveal Hermione.

"Ginny? You're awake?"

"Yeah." Ginny put the scroll on top of her books and looked at Hermione. Her friend looked as if she hadn't gotten a moment of sleep. Hermione wrung her hands a bit and approached the bed, still not making eye contact. Ginny felt a lurch of guilt; she really had made a mess hadn't she?

"Are you feeling better today?" Hermione asked her sheets.

"Hermione, I'm sorry." Ginny looked at the crown of Hermione's head since she refused to look up.

"Don't apologize." Hermione whispered.

"I know what it looked like, Hermione. And I'm sorry you had to deal with that." Ginny swallowed hard. What if it had been her walking in on Hermione? Would she have acted with the same kind of control? Would she have been able to face her brother and Harry and explain it all? Would she have been able to keep it together? She didn't know. And that was just the beginning of the problems she had caused.

"It's okay." Hermione picked lint off her bed.

"Hermione, it's not." Ginny firmly said. Hermione's shoulders tensed, but she still didn't look up. "And I'm sorry that I've messed everything up with you and Harry. And with you and Ron."

"It will all work out." Hermione responded but her breath caught a bit.

"Can you please just look at me?" Ginny pleaded. Hermione's bright eyes met her own and she gave a quick sniffle before arranging her face into a look of composure. "I didn't mean for all of this to happen. I didn't think it was going to end up like this."

"Which part, Ginny?" Hermione shook her head. "How could you not see this coming?"

"See what coming?" Ginny slowly asked.

"Neville. You've known since this summer. And you've known Harry for so long; you should have known he was going to snap about it. I did!" Hermione blinked some tears away and then frowned a bit. "But you didn't even pay attention to what was going on around you! None of the signs, none of the looks we were all giving you. And then you act so surprised when Harry is furious."

"I didn't know." Ginny automatically responded, even though she knew better by now. She'd known all along, she'd just ignored it.

"Don't! I told you, Ginny. You knew!" Hermione yelled. "And you knew you were going to snap again and didn't do anything to stop it. You could feel it building; I could see it in your face. And you ignored that too. And then you ignored what purposely trying to put yourself into a coma would do to all of us. Ginny, what happened in the hospital was horrible. Horrible. I don't ever want to go through that again, but you don't seem to care if you went back. You've just given up on your life?"

"No." Ginny swallowed hard against the tears coming up. "No I haven't given up. I made mistakes, Hermione." She looked up at her but Hermione's face was a mask of anger, not the sympathy she wanted.

"Everyone makes mistakes. You made wrong choices. There's a difference. And now I don't know if anything will ever be the same between the four of us." Hermione shook her head and looked away.

"I'm sorry." Ginny stammered and grabbed the blanket up in her hands.

"So now what?" Hermione turned back to her and Ginny shrugged.

Madame Pomfrey came out of her office at that moment and set down a tray of lunch for her.

"How are you feeling Miss Weasley?"

"Fine." Ginny sighed and pulled the blanket around herself. Madame Pomfrey nodded and made her way back into her office.

"I thought you left that blanket back home." Hermione touched the burning yellow of the blanket.

"This is a new one." Ginny sniffled.

"New?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "As in made in the last 24 hours? As in Harry was here?"

"Yes. He must have snuck in last night. I didn't see him. I just woke up with the blanket covering me." Ginny pulled the blanket closer and watched as Hermione looked very hard at the blanket for a long moment. Then she blinked and took a small breath,

"I remembered the first time he made you a blanket."

"When was that? I don't…remember." Ginny shook her head, frustrated at the holes in her memory.

"After he had been checked out by the Healers. You had just started hysterically crying when George had tried to talk to you. Everyone left the room but Harry and I. You were shaking so hard, and we couldn't tell if it was because of your hysteria or if you were cold. I left to go find Ron, try to help, and when I came back in there was this pink blanket over you, and Harry was just standing there watching you." Hermione's eyes had gotten that far away look as she remembered but she shook her head and looked back down.

"Watching?"

"Everything about you was so unpredictable in those first few days. I think he thought keeping you warm was the only thing he could control." Hermione frowned. "Are you going back to St. Mungo's Ginny?"

"No." Ginny shook her head to further punctuate it. "Are you still angry with me?"

"A little." Hermione shrugged. At least she was being honest.

"Thank you for not lying." Ginny leaned back into her pillows. "Have you talked to Ron?"

"He's back at the flat. After your parent's talked to Harry they made him go back. I guess a shaky truce has been called for the moment." Hermione sighed and leaned against her bed. "Harry's leaving in a few days anyway."

"Already?" Ginny picked up a half of her sandwich.

"He's cleared by Friday, they already sent him his next mission information." Hermione looked at her stack of homework as she said this.

"That's so fast. It's too soon." Ginny frowned and picked up the other half of sandwich.

"Maybe it's better this way." Hermione crossed her arms.

"Maybe." Ginny shoved the last of her sandwich into her mouth so she wouldn't say any more. It wasn't better this way, it was worse with everything unresolved between them. It was worse when he could come and leave her a blanket but not talk to her.

"Are you being released tonight?" Hermione changed subjects noting her silence. Ginny nodded and Hermione gave her blanket covered leg a pat. "Good, you need my help, because you are still really far behind."

Ginny swallowed and the lunch bell sounded through the infirmary. Hermione gave her a smile and then turned to leave.

"Hermione?" Ginny called out and she looked over her shoulder. "Thanks."

"No problem, Ginny." Hermione smiled and left.

* * *

She was already an hour into homework after dinner when Madame Pomfrey burst out of her office and started stacking all her books.

"Emergency, Miss Weasley. I'm afraid I'm going to need your bed. You are free to go." Madame Pomfrey banished the left over dishes from dinner and levitated her book bag onto her cot.

"But…" Ginny looked up at her flabbergasted, but Madame Pomfrey moved away and started creating several more cots with extra blankets. "Alright."

Ginny shoved all her books into her bag, next went all her course work, then her letters, and finally she shoved the blanket in. Well, as much of the blanket as she could, some of it was still spilling out the side of her bag as she closed it. She slung the backpack on, grabbed her scroll from Jenna, and ran a hand through her messy ponytail. She probably looked a fright; she hadn't really been paying attention to her appearance. As she went to take her first step the infirmary doors swung open. Ravenclaws, so many Ravenclaws.

They were coming in pairs, one Ravenclaw practically dragging a second into the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey started pointing at beds and then looking over each one. Ginny immediately started scanning for a head of blonde hair but Luna didn't seem to be part of the wounded. And these students looked wounded. Each one of them was a disturbing pale white, with several small cuts to their skin, but the cuts weren't bleeding. And if it was even possible their hands looked incredibly bloated, but just their hands. It didn't make any sense at all. The ill Ravenclaws were moaning and rolling about in their cots and Ginny made a break for it, just in case it was contagious.

One girl in particular looked a little worse for wear, a pretty girl with long brown hair thrashed around on her cot. Ginny swore she looked familiar somehow but she couldn't place her. The male Ravenclaw who had brought her in was looking quite green as he stared at her rolling about on the cot. As Ginny made it out of the doors the last of the ill were being drug in and she caught a flash of hair.

"Luna!" Ginny called out and her friend turned to her with wide silver eyes.

"Oh, Ginny. I'm so happy to see you're better." Luna smiled at her.

"What happened?" Ginny moved up right next to her as Luna watched the last of her classmates being heaved inside.

"Bit of a mishap with an experiment. I had suggested adding a bit of lovage to the potion and it caused the cauldron to explode, and shatter all the glass in the common room, and set fire to one of the tapestries. Of course the noxious fumes made quite a few people sick as well. Lovage wasn't the right way to go." Luna mused and twirled a section of her hair around her finger. Ginny felt her mouth drop open a bit.

"What in the bloody hell were you trying to do?"

"Oh an experiment. We were bored." Luna shrugged.

"Haven't you ever heard of exploding snap? Do you make a habit of destroying your common room when you're bored?" Ginny let out a few shakes of laughter.

"Of course I know what exploding snap is." Luna rolled her eyes. "I don't expect you Gryffindors to understand experiments as exciting. Except for Hermione."

"Well I'm glad you weren't a causality of that accident." Ginny smiled at Luna.

"I'm afraid it was my addition of lovage that caused it. The cauldron broke open away from me, so I watched it all happen. I better go tell Madame Pomfrey about everything we put in there so she can figure out a way to help." Luna smiled and gave a little wave before making her way in. "See you tomorrow then."

Ginny turned toward the direction of her common room and looked down at the scroll in her hands. She had purposely not packed Jenna's scroll for two reasons. One, if she had it in her hands at all times she might figure it out, or better yet accidently figure it out and thus open the scroll. And two, just like with the diary, she didn't really trust the piece of paper. How could a sealed scroll know more about the inner workings of her mind than she could? Seemed like dark magic if you asked her.

As she made her way toward the staircase that would lead her up to the common room she nearly ran into Seamus who seemed to be in a very big hurry.

"Ginny?" Seamus shook his head upon laying eyes on her. "All right, then?"

"Yep." Ginny smiled. "Look, Seamus, I'm sorry about…"

"No worries." Seamus shook his head and put his hands up to stop her. "Ginny you don't have to explain anything to me. It's your business, whatever happened in there. I just saw you start running, and then Hermione start running after you so I followed. Instinct, you know?" Seamus bounced back and forth on his feet, he seemed really anxious.

"Well," Ginny clenched the scroll in her hand a bit, "thank you anyway. And I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"I thought Madame Pomfrey was going to keep you longer than a day. You got off easy." He grinned at her.

"There was some accident in the Ravenclaw common room…" Ginny started but Seamus' eyes flew wide open and he took a step toward her.

"So that wasn't a rumor?"

"No, I saw them all being drug in. So it wasn't really getting off easy when I had no control…" Ginny trailed off and looked down in awe as the seal instantly broke open in her hand. What had she said? What was the word? Control? Control.

"I have to go, Ginny." Seamus gave her arm a squeeze and took off down the hall.

"Yeah, bye." Ginny absently called out after him but kept her eyes glued to the now cracked seal. Slowly she opened the scroll and read in Jenna's neat writing:

_You opened it on accident, didn't you?_

_We will talk about this tomorrow. Please think about why I choose that word and what it means to you._

Damn that woman, she knew her too well. But this confirmed it Jenna was a Slytherin. Ginny rolled the scroll back up and made her way to the common room. After another few hours of homework, with Hermione's help, Ginny stumbled to her bed and practically fell into it. Her brain was starting to resemble mush, how was she supposed to remember anything when everything kept slipping right out of her short term memory?

Well, almost everything. She looked at the now open scroll sitting on her bedside one more time before knocking her sleeping potion back and closing her eyes.

* * *

"Control."

"So we're just going to start right up, then? No, 'how are you'? No 'what did you think'?" Ginny shifted nervously in her seat. Jenna had set up a small corner of the infirmary with a high backed chair, a table that had her file and a scroll and a self-inking bewitched quill again, and a long red velvet couch.

"I don't see why not." Jenna leveled eyes with her.

"You know I thought about it all last night and I couldn't come up with the reason why you'd give me that word." Ginny twisted her hands in her lap and then swallowed hard against the anxiety building up in her throat. All she had managed to come up with was that the word, control, had made her uncomfortable but she didn't know why.

"Miss Weasley," Jenna frowned at her hands and then took a deep breath. "People with conditions like your own…it is not something that was lurking in your brain. It's not a pre-existing condition. It's a learned behavior."

"Conditions like my…" Ginny trailed off as the anxiety let off a flare of vomit that burned the back of her throat. "Hysteria?"

"When I say a learned behavior I mean that you have created a world for yourself where you continue to make the same mistakes over and over again. Maybe because you like the outcome, maybe because you can't see it, maybe because it's the only way you can understand yourself. But you're like a fly trying to escape out a window. You keep hitting again and again against the window thinking you'll find a different outcome each time. When all you ever had to do was see the history of what you did before and go a little to the left, out the window." Jenna leaned forward and pressed her lips together firmly. "Do you understand?"

"I'm a fly?" Ginny furrowed her brow. "Are you saying my hysteria is something I keep willing on myself?"

Jenna took another breath and leaned back in her chair, sitting straight in the emerald green leather. "Hysteria is just a by-product of your real problem."

"That post traumatic thing? What happened after the war?" Ginny leaned forward.

"That is also," Jenna paused, "another by-product."

"So what's wrong with me?" Ginny shot out, feeling her hands shake. "Am I some kind of freak?"

Jenna smiled. "No, Miss Weasley. You are not a freak. And before you think that I'm lying to pacify you," Jenna gave her a knowing look and Ginny nodded. Always two steps ahead of her, that would be exactly what she would have eventually thought. "You are not the only student that needed to be cleared to go back to Hogwarts. You are not the only student that thinks they are making a supreme effort to hide coming to the infirmary once a week to pick up potions. You are not alone. But the Wizarding World is very far behind in matters such as these. Muggles seem to have us beat a bit in that aspect. There are still some Mediwizards that think everything can be cured with a cheering charm."

"You can't?" Ginny clenched her fists and then released them and some tension. So she wasn't alone, everyone else just had a better way of hiding their problems.

"No," Jenna laughed a little. "You can't."

"So hysteria, and the traumatic thing, they're not what's really wrong with me. What is really wrong with me?"

"I have an idea. I'm fairly certain that I'm right. But we need to get there together for you to understand it. If I just tell you, your brain won't process the information correctly, it will attack it instead of trying to resolve it." Jenna leaned forward again. "Does that make sense?"

"Sure." Ginny shrugged. "I believe you, doesn't mean I understand it, but you're being cryptic as well."

"Fair enough." Jenna looked over her shoulder at the quill still quickly scratching out what was being said between them.

"Like I said before, Miss Weasley, conditions like yours are a learned behavior. People with problems such as yours have cataclysmic events happen in their past. Sometimes it's their recent past, sometimes it's in their childhood, sometimes they have buried it so deep that they don't really remember what it was. But it all started somewhere. And from that moment, the one moment," Jenna waited until Ginny looked up at her, "something in their brain just snaps. That snap makes everything else they do surround that break, try to contain that break, try to suppress that break, and that effort makes them do strange things, or horrible things, or terribly sad things, or even unfixable things."

"One event?" Ginny kept her eyes locked onto Jenna's blue ones.

"One event. Do you know what that one event was for you?" Jenna leaned even further forward so her elbows were on the very edges of her knees.

Ginny kept her eyes on Jenna but her mind started to filter. It went through all the horrible things that had happened in the last few years. All the things that had caused her tears and pain. Everything that had created darkness within her after the event had passed. All things - for the last seven years to be exact. And then she had it.

"Riddle."

"Perfect." Jenna gave the slightest nod.

"He ruined everything." Ginny quietly said and felt her throat constrict at all the building emotions that started to surface whenever she thought back to the hellish year and everything that had transpired.

"But what did he ruin most of all?" Jenna prodded her face completely blank, her blue eyes boring into her own. Ginny swallowed hard; thought about it for a second, saw all the memories floating in her mind. She closed her eyes and tried to sift through it all. What had he taken from her, what had he destroyed within her, what was the biggest crime out of all his crimes? It swam to the surface of her minds eye and she shot her own open in response.

"My control." She nodded her head and felt the tears well up in her eyes. "He took it from me."

"And?" Jenna prompted. Ginny shut her eyes, the tears started to spill down her face and she sniffled.

"He took it from me." She cried, only able to repeat herself as the emotions overwhelmed her.

"Good," Jenna firmly answered. "Good."

Suddenly Ginny felt something hit the couch and opened her eyes to see a box of tissues next to her. She grabbed a few and dabbed at her face, still feeling like a reservoir of tears were waiting to break out, but she kept them at bay. She felt like something very tiny within her had changed. It was something that wouldn't even be noticeable unless she was paying attention, but she felt just slightly different. As if saying the words out loud to someone had sparked that change. That thought calmed her tears, and she took a large breath to compose herself.

"That is excellent progress Miss Weasley." Jenna said in a kind voice and she looked back up at her.

"What now?"

"Now you know." Jenna flicked her wand and floated another tissue over to her. "But your brain is going to over think this. It's going to go into overload trying to understand why. So I'm going to give you an assignment to keep your conscious mind focused on here and now. We'll let your subconscious work it out in the background, shall we?"

"Can that even happen?" Ginny blew her nose a bit into a tissue feeling the tears slowly break up.

"It does. Every minute of every day. That's how you've created all these learned behaviors. Your subconscious has been doing overtime for quite a while now." Jenna pulled out a stack of parchment and another quill as the self-writing one was still working on their current conversation. "This time you don't need a password."

She finished up and handed it over. Ginny scanned the paper for a moment and then looked back up at her,

"You want me to spy?"

"You came up with the word spy. I said I just wanted you to observe." Jenna chastised.

"You want me to observe all my friends and their daily activities?" Ginny rolled the parchment up into a scroll and crossed her arms over her chest. "How is that going to help me with anything? How is that going to solve any of the problems I've created for myself?"

"Why don't you let me do my job," Jenna gave her a quick smirk. "And I will let you continue doing yours."

"Which is what?" Ginny rose an eyebrow.

"You're still a Harpy, aren't you? And a student? I know this seems a bit unorthodox to you, but you need to just trust me. Have I ever misled you before?" Jenna crossed her hands in her lap and gave Ginny an open sort of look that wiped the smug sense of doubt right out of her.

"No." Ginny conceded. "But…"

"Yes?"

"What about Neville?" Ginny almost whispered, the thought of him making her stomach churn.

"If he is your friend, you must observe him." Jenna plainly stated.

"And if he isn't anymore?" Ginny bit her lip in anxiety of what she might say next.

"They you must not observe him." Jenna punctuated with another knowing glance. "The rules are simple Miss Wealsey. You're the one that is trying to complicate the situation. Is everything clear?"

"Yes." Ginny looked back down at the scroll and then heard Jenna stand. Wordlessly she had cleaned everything up except for the couch Ginny was still sitting on. "I do have one questions."

"Oh?" Jenna looked down at her. Ginny smiled a little to herself and then stood up as well, the couch melting into the ground as if it had all been an illusion.

"What House were you in?" Ginny smiled and crossed her arms waiting for Jenna to answer.

"I'm afraid that something you'll have to earn, Miss Weasley. I don't volunteer personal information." Jenna smirked back.

"Alright," Ginny nodded. "But my money is on Slytherin."

"Same time, same place, tomorrow?" Jenna pocketed her wand.

"Of course." Ginny answered and the bell sounded through the infirmary.

"Have a good day Miss Weasley." Jenna smiled and watched as Ginny slung on her backpack and made her way out into the hallways to start her first day back.

* * *

"Which brings me to valerian roots." Professor Slughorn lectured amidst the low chatter of her class and the rustling of papers and scratching. "Can anyone tell me a potion that you would use valerian roots for?"

Ginny scribbled down the few notes that she needed to make and threw her hand in the air as she looked down at her parchment. Jenna had said that she was sent back to Hogwarts for the structure, for the boring, seemingly endless amount of classes she had to take. But the rest of the school had the Yule Ball on their minds, and if it wasn't the Yule Ball it was the Christmas Holidays that would be following immediately after it. No one wanted to work anymore, and her Wednesday Potions class was no exception. Even Slughorn seemed to be ignoring distractions that would normally be house point deductions.

"Miss Weasley?" Slughorn's surprised voice broke over the whispers from the rest of the class and she looked up.

"Draught of Living Death." She put her hand back down and felt Hermione turn to look at her. Her whole class seemed to turn to look at her. Well, almost her entire class; she knew Neville wouldn't look up.

"And can you name the other ingredients in this potion?" Slughorn crossed his arms over his chest, resting them on his large belly and smiled.

"Asphodel, wormwood, and sopophorous bean." Ginny listed and kept eye contact with Slughorn alone. It had been one of the more awkward moments of her life when she'd arrived in class for the first time. And she'd had several – several – 'hide in a corner until you were dead' kind of awkward moments in her life thus far. She ranked finally returning to class after her dramatic exit from the school to be Harry's proxy and then her even more over the top sleeping potion situation at six on her list of top ten. What had made it the most awkward was how everyone's eyes continued to fly back and forth between her and Neville. So she kept her eyes on Slughorn and then back down at her paper.

"Excellent! Ten points to Gryffindor." Slughorn called out and then gave a stern look to the class. "I know that the Yule Ball is quickly approaching, but you would all do well to take a page out of Miss Weasley's book. Don't let up on your studies, your N.E.W.T.'s will be here soon enough!"

"Good show, Ginny." Hermione commented to her. "How did you remember that?"

"I take it every night, you'd think I'd know the ingredients by now." Ginny whispered back, relief exploded in her chest that Hermione had said anything at all. Despite what Ginny had deemed an unstable reconciliation she could still tell that Hermione was mad at her.

"Right," Hermione blushed a bit and looked back toward the front as Slughorn continued his lecture. Ginny looked back down at her parchment and saw the scroll from Jenna poking out from the bottom of everything. She pulled out a new piece of parchment and laid it next to the notes she was trying to take and looked over out of the corner of her eye at Hermione.

Hermione had bewitched one quill to take notes on anything that Professor Slughorn said, it was quite ingenious. She wondered why she'd never thought of that herself, it would save so much time. On another sheet of parchment Hermione was making two lists. One of the lists had to do with Head Girl things: Reorganize the Gobstones meeting for Saturday, make the lower years begin packing this week (or at least start to warn them), speak with McGonnagall about Professor Binns and a proper replacement.

The second list seemed to be about the Yule ball, at first glance Ginny thought it was about preparations for the school but upon looking closer it was an incredibly detailed list of all Hermione was thinking of to get ready for the ball. Every detail was written down, from shining her shoes to picking out the right stones for a single hair barrette. Hermione was going over this Yule Ball list fastidiously, numbering and listing everything, and then frowning and reordering it again. She seemed incredibly nervous about the whole thing. It was just a dance. Ginny scratched this down onto her parchment reserved for her spying for Jenna.

Then Hermione pulled out a third sheet, but she kept it hidden under the other two pieces. Just the heading and the small opening paragraph could be seen peeking out from under all the other things on her desk. Ginny leaned toward Hermione just a tiny bit to see this mysterious third piece of parchment and felt her breath catch in her lungs.

_Harry,_

_Please see reason on this. I know you're angry still, but things are very complicated here at Hogwarts. I know you don't like to…_

The rest was covered by parchment. Hermione touched Harry's name, keeping her fingers there for a moment, and then shoved all the papers together and shook her head, as if to clear it. Hermione looked back up at the front and frowned. And Ginny wrote it all down.

* * *

Luminary magazine was still in full effect even on Wednesday. Felicity Dagwood continued to make her wild speculations about the wedding that _must_ have taken place between her and Harry. It was starting to get ridiculous now; the latest article that she had caught a glimpse of at dinner had a glaring headline of:

**Did They Hop the Pond for Their Nuptials?**

Ginny cut her carrots into tiny pieces as all the Luminary magazines ruffled around her, she could hear snippets of the article being read in a hushed tone. Right as she was about to forgo lunch altogether Luna plopped down right next to her.

"Just as I suspected."

"What's that?" Ginny looked at her with a hopeful smile.

"I was telling Nigel Nickerson to stay back from me, but he wouldn't listen and now look at him." Luna pointed over at the Hufflepuff table at a sixth year boy who seemed to be staring off into space. Ginny thought he rather looked like he'd eaten too much, but knowing Luna…

"Nargles?" Ginny offered.

"It's a pity. But really I couldn't think of a better time for him to catch them." Luna shrugged and grabbed an orange off the table.

"Well, you did try to warn him." Ginny smiled. "Not like anyone listens to reason anymore in this school."

"Oh Ginny, don't worry about that horrible magazine." Luna peeled her orange and Ginny waited for Luna to finish her thought. But she didn't, she stayed silent, and this seemed very off.

"Something bothering you, Luna?" Ginny whispered to her friend trying to keep their conversation somewhat private.

"Oh, I'm afraid I've lost some of my coalition." Luna flicked her wand and turned her orange peel into a miniature pig. Ginny held out her hand for the orange peel pig to run into. "The lovage incident has caused several people to doubt the validity of my arguments for my conservation movement."

"But it was just an accident." Ginny soothed, and then pet the pig with her finger.

"People don't like me, Ginny." Luna bluntly said and Ginny cringed a bit at her honesty. Ginny looked over at Luna and opened her mouth to retort when Luna cut her off. "I don't mind, but it brings my society back down to two members. I highly doubt my Father counts."

"What about me?" Ginny deposited the orange peel pig onto Luna's empty plate. "I thought I was part of your society thingy."

"I don't want to bother you with all that, Ginny." Luna flicked her wand and the pig fell back to the plate as a peel.

"Why would it be a bother?" Ginny leaned toward her.

"You're far too popular and busy for something that's run by me." Luna shrugged.

"No. No, that's where you're wrong, Luna." Ginny put a hand on her friend's forearm and internalized the twinge of guilt that washed over her. Luna thought she was too popular for her? What kind of horrible friend had she become? "Where are your badges? Shouldn't a Coalition have badges? Hermione was always handing out those S.P.E.W. buttons."

"I haven't come up with a badge yet. Would you like to help me?" Luna smiled.

"Of course." Ginny smiled back and Luna stood.

"I'm going to round up some terry cloth and twine." Luna beamed at her started listing things on her fingers as she moved away from the Gryffindor table and the whispers that continued to glide around all the conversations. Ginny shook her head, she had no idea what terry cloth and twine was going to make, but she did need to write this down. 'Spying' on Luna and Hermione had revealed something ugly about herself and she was starting to understand why Jenna had asked her to do this in the first place. She had become a horrible friend.

* * *

After the rest of her classes, and then dinner, and then trying to concentrate for a couple hours down in the common room, Ginny felt entirely overwhelmed. Being able to be by yourself without any kind of sound distraction was something she had gotten a little used to. So after she'd waited it out in her room, calming down her ringing ears and spinning mind, she realized she still wasn't tired. And just as suddenly as she though that she realized she had to get out of this room. She had to move around and think about all that she had figured out today. She knew Jenna had warned her not to do just that, but all her friends were out doing important things, and she wasn't going to spy on Neville. And that thought made her heart ache slightly. The worst of it was she knew she shouldn't feel this way, should feel that kind of tender feeling toward Neville after everything that had happened between them, but she couldn't help it. Their friendship had been destroyed beyond repair now. All that was left was going to be awkward glances and silences that made everyone uncomfortable. Or worse, pretending like nothing happened for the sake of everyone else, all while knowing that he had tried to kiss her and he had meant it, and she had no feelings of love toward him and had pushed him away.

Ginny shrugged into her captain's jacket with a groan. A walk was certainly in order; she needed to clear her head. She'd started wandering the hallways one hand wrapped around her wand to ensure a quick appearance change if necessary, the other touching things as she passed them: the cold metal of the enchanted armor singing Christmas carols, the rough and freezing brush of castle stone, the heavy weaving and thick cotton of the tapestries, the raised and cool metal of…

She stopped and looked at her hand. She'd found him again. Pocketing her wand she ran both her fingers over the gold-plated dedication to her brother. Quick and fast a flood of tears filled her eyes as she continued to press the pads of her fingers into each letter. Her first Christmas without him. Her first New Years without him. Everything would be without him now. Leaning up against the wall she used it to slowly lower herself to the ground, still wiping at her face. He'd never see her finish Hogwarts. The only thing he consistently held over her head. His voice filled her mind with the memory,

_"You're the first girl in five generations, Gin-Bug. We can't have you wasting this precious chance. You have to make us all proud, and the first thing would be finishing Hogwarts. Then becoming Minister of Magic."_

She let out a tearful laugh, and tried to compose herself, but was quickly reminded of a time that felt ancient, almost nine years ago, but now fresh in her mind because of all the time she was spending with Jenna. She could see them now, hanging outside the windows of the Hogwarts Express as she watched with big, sad eyes. Fred and George had given her an amazing smile then and then George yelled out,

_"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat!"_

And she had chased the train to the very end of the platform and watched it steam away, wishing they were telling the truth but knowing she'd never receive one. She'd watched all six of her brothers leave by that day, and every time they promised her they'd send her something from Hogwarts. She'd wait at home, and wait, and wait. They would always return empty handed but for the wonderful stories and new magic they couldn't wait to show her. Her tears stopped as she had a blinding moment of clarity, she knew what she had to do now.

Jumping to her feet she rounded the corner and took some back passageways toward the second floor, she had almost made it to the bathroom when she ran right into someone.

"Oi, watch it! Oh, hi Ginny." Seamus grabbed her to straighten her out. His eyes fell across her still blotchy face and he said in a lower tone, "everything alright?"

"Yeah. I have to go." She moved to step away.

"Where exactly? Because I think we both know that we shouldn't be out after curfew." Seamus gave a little laugh, but she turned toward her final destination.

"Bigger things at hand tonight." She stared down the door to Moaning Myrtles' bathroom.

"Need some help?"

She looked up surprised at Seamus' smiling face. With a nod he followed her into the bathroom and she moved through the sinks to the one that she wanted; the sink that had started her whole messy Hogwarts career. And if Jenna was going to continue to make her relive all those horrible times in order to find out what was truly wrong with her than she was going to need a memento. This school had taken so many things from her. Her childhood, her sense of trust, her ability to write in diaries, her health, her friends, her family, her sanity…it was time she took something back.

"Isn't this the sink that opens the," Seamus started but she cut over him with a curt,

"Yeah."

"Are you going to blow it up or something?"

"No, just taking the fixture." She pushed the sleeves back on her jacket and felt her wand vibrate a little in her hand, as if it was telling her it was ready for some destruction.

"Right, then." Seamus crossed his arms and gave her a supportive nod. With a fast swish of her wand she severed the fixture from the sink with a large crack. She reached out to grab it and paused as a horrible noise emitted from the now gaping hole. It was as if it was coming from deep under the floor.

"Seamus…" She said never letting her eyes leave the basin, and backed up right into him.

"We better…" He started and then all the other sinks started to vibrate, as if preparing to retaliate against the violence on their brother sink, and then water started to blast out of the working sinks. Quite quickly they over filled and it poured onto the floor. They stared for a moment at the bone dry, fixtureless sink in awe before coming to their senses and realizing that the water was already starting to soak the bottoms of their shoes.

"I think that was a bit excessive!" She yelled over the rush of water that was starting to shallowly fill the bathroom floor. A rumbling started in the stall next to them and before she knew it and Moaning Myrtle came screaming out of one of the stalls.

"Mischief in the bathroom! Mischief in the bathroom! Help! Help!" She wailed and Ginny shot her a dirty look before wading through the flood of water for the door. Seamus grabbed the handle and tugged at the door, but it was stuck, and the water was getting a little too high for her comfort. The iciness of it was burning at her ankles now. She gave Seamus a panicked look as Myrtle let out another round of wailing. She felt her eyes roll in annoyance and shouted, at the same time as Seamus,

"Shut it you!"

They looked at each other for a moment, and then started laughing.

"This is a bloody disaster!" Seamus laughed and yanked at the door again. "It's stuck."

"We're going to drown in here!" Ginny giggled and kicked a wave of water toward Seamus. The unending stream of water continued to fill the bathroom; it was now freezing her up an inch or two past her ankles.

"I think the water is making the door stick a bit. I'll move the water, you open the door and we'll make a break for it." Seamus waded through the freezing water toward her and she moved back over toward his spot.

"I hope you know what you're doing!" She called out over the noise of the still gushing water. Myrtle dove back into one of the toilets and seemingly left them for dead. She watched as Seamus pulled out his wand, closed his eyes and then made a fast swish and flick, spreading the fingers of his free hand wide. The water before the door started to separate away from the door. It pushed aside as if an invisible wall was holding it back, she continued to stare, impressed, when Seamus said through is teeth,

"Any day Weasley."

"Sorry!" She yelled and threw open the door. Seamus continued to hold the water back as he slowly moved through it, and then seemed to hit something and looked at her with wide eyes.

"I don't know if I can get through!" He called out and pushed against an invisible wall that was holding him and the slowly growing water level back. Ginny abandoned the door and moved toward him.

"You can do it! Just concentrate!" She encouraged and Seamus gave her a quick nod and closed his eyes. A small stream of water started to slowly break through the invisible wall he'd created and she saw his foot land in the uncovered area. Pressing the sink fixture against her side she reached out through the wall and grabbed his shirt, yanking him through the barrier and out onto the other side. They both stared at each other in shock for a moment and then Myrtle exploded out from a toilet and started wailing again.

"Mischief in the bathroom! Mischief in the bathroom! Help! Help!"

They quickly moved through the door, Seamus let his wand hand drop, and all the water that had been pooling behind his barrier came rushing out at them, covering their shins in freezing cold water, and flooding out onto the floor of the empty corridor. Panting and dripping wet they looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes and then started laughing again.

"Bloody hell, Ginny!" Seamus bent over a bit and put his head between his knees trying to catch his breath.

"That was not my intention. I just wanted the fixture!" She laughed holding it up.

"Well you destroyed the bathroom in the process." Seamus looked up at her from his still bent over position and then shook his head and laughed again.

"How did you learn to do that?" She shifted the fixture to her other hand and watched as water slowly continued to flow out from the bathroom and puddle against the stones.

"Me Mum. There's this creek by our house. Sometimes we cheat a little when we go fishing." He gave her a cheeky grin and then stood back up. With a flick of her wand he blasted her with a warming charm and her clothes dried out. She quickly did the same for him.

"Thanks for helping me." She gave him a big smile and held out the faucet between the two of them.

"What are you going to do with it?" Seamus took it out of her hands for a second and examined it.

"Not sure yet." She looked at it in his hands and contemplated it. She'd just known that she needed to take it, not what to do with it after.

"Maybe fix it to the wall? To the victor go the spoils, eh?" He gave her another grin and handed the trophy back. She was suddenly flooded with a buried memory of the Chamber opening before her for the first time. She took a deep breath and looked down at the fixture again, it _was_ her trophy now. She'd finally taken something back instead of just passively just letting things happen to her. She could feel her mind working and twisting trying to put together several pieces of information at once: her conversations with Jenna, the Chamber, the trophy in her hands, and Harry. Harry was always in her thoughts, but this time it wasn't the man that haunted her dreams but a twelve year old Harry bleeding and panting over her. She shook her head. Seamus gave her a concerned look and she took a breath.

"Alright there?" Seamus put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up into his kind face, his eyes cautiously looking her over but not eyeing her as Neville did. Neville, Merlin, both Harry and Neville probably hated her now, and she didn't blame them. But that did leave one particularly sticky situation still unresolved. She took another look at Seamus and said in one breath,

"Seamus will you take me to the Yule Ball?"

"Umm." He gave her a confused look. "Aren't you already going with Neville?"

"I can't anymore." She hugged the fixture to her chest and looked at the constant stream of water still trickling out of the bathroom behind him.

"Alright." Seamus gave her a skeptical look. "What about Harry? Shouldn't he take you?"

"He's," she clenched her teeth together and looked down at Seamus' feet, "not."

"Ah," he quietly said and she felt his hand squeeze her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, you probably already have a date." She looked up at him and he shook his head. "I have to go, and I have to walk in with someone, and it's all become such a bloody disaster I wish I didn't have to anymore. I don't even want to go. I'm just going to walk in and walk out. You've just been such a good friend, and _only_ a friend and you're not complicated and moody and…"

"Ginny," he let out a soft chuckle. She bit her tongue to stop herself. "I'll take you. Just wanted to make sure I wasn't about to get my arse beat for doing it."

"Thank you Seamus!" She almost cried and threw her arms around his waist, pressing the sink faucet between the two of them as she hugged him. As she continued to squeeze him she heard several footsteps making their way toward them and quickly reduced the fixture and pocketed it. Seamus gave her a look, but then also heard the footsteps and pulled out his wand.

"Pretend you're trying to fix it." She hissed and swished her wand around to conjure a large bucket and siphon some of the water off the floor.

"What is going on over here?" Hermione's voice rounded the corner, flanked by Dean and the two Prefects from Ravenclaw. "Ginny?"

"Seamus?" The girl Ravenclaw Prefect said next. Ginny gave the small brunette a closer look. She seemed so familiar to her, except for the piercing blue eyes that were trained onto Seamus' slowly reddening face.

"What happened?" Hermione gestured widely out toward the large sections of puddles behind them and Ginny finally placed the Ravenclaw and her wand dropped to her side, suddenly flabbergasted by realizing that she was laying eyes on Seamus' mystery girl.

"Thompson." Seamus quickly shot in. "I swear I saw that little git take off down the hall. We would have gone after him but there was so much water." Seamus siphoned more water from the floor without missing a beat.

"Dean you told me he was in the common room!" Hermione whirled around on him and Dean threw his hands up in the air.

"You want me to put a trace on him, Hermione?" Dean shouted back, they dissolved into bickering. The two Ravenclaw Prefects looked at Dean and Hermione for a moment before the boy Prefect turned to the girl and said,

"You better go get Professor Ransach."

"NO!" All four Gryffindor's yelled out at once.

"Well we're not going to go get Professor Flitwick!" The girl sassed back at them. Seamus gave a little smile at the Ravenclaw's reaction, one the girl didn't see.

"I'll go get Professor Vector. Her offices are the closest anyway. No one saw who did this, so it's no ones fault. We just need some assistance in the clean up." Hermione evenly said, making eye contact with everyone. "Well let the professors try to figure out who did it."

"Sure." The girl Ravenclaw nodded and yanked the boy to come with her. "We'll just go back to our patrol."

"Good idea." Dean nodded and watched them with cautious eyes. Seamus turned his eyes back down to his bucket full of water but Ginny watched as the girl turned the corner, still dragging her fellow Prefect. Right as she was about to disappear the mystery girl looked back over her shoulder to see Seamus. A wicked smile pulled across Ginny's face and the girl's eyes drifted from ogling Seamus to Ginny. The poor Ravenclaw turned bright red and pushed her counterpart faster.

"Don't say a word." Seamus grumbled at her.

"I wasn't going to." Ginny whispered back.

Dean and Hermione were still surveying the damage before Hermione called out to the two of them.

"Just go back to the common room."

"Yeah," Dean locked eyes on the two of them. "You two were never here."

"Got it." Seamus nodded and grabbed her arm, tugging her the same direction as the Ravenclaw's had just left.

"Are you sure you still want to take me, Seamus? She's pretty." Ginny dropped her voice to ensure it was a private conversation.

"Ginny," Seamus stopped and spun her around to face him. "You have your secrets. I have mine. If you want to stay friends, maybe we should just keep it that way."

She felt such an overwhelming sense of gratitude she couldn't voice that she grabbed Seamus around the waist, hoping he knew it was a thank you. He squeezed back a 'you're welcome'. They silently made their way back to the common room, shoes slightly soggy, and the Chamber of Secrets sink fixture banging against her thigh in her pocket.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Friend - Good thing I got this up, now you won't have to steal Harry's glasses! LOL

My 'regulars' - thank you all so much for you PM's and reviews 'gently' prodding me about the chapter progress, it really does help motivate to write faster when you feel like your reviewers are breathing down your neck. :)

TOW - Finally. F-ing Finally. Thanks for talking me off the ledge a few times there. :p


	28. Chapter 28

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 28~

_And if you have a minute why don't we go_

_Talk about it somewhere only we know?_

_This could be the end of everything_

_So why don't we go, somewhere only we know_

_Somewhere Only We Know by Keane_

* * *

She was going to vomit. Not that nervous fluttering sensation you get from nerves, not that ill feeling you get when you have too many chocolate frogs, not the swooning sort of feeling you get from being forced to touch something very disgusting, but total, everything-is-about-to-come-back-up, wished-you-had-never-eaten-anything-in-the-first-place, there-is-no-way-to-stop-this kind of vomit. Ginny took another deep breath and looked down at the floor.

"We're going to be late." Hermione whispered to her. Ginny didn't look over; she couldn't. Staring at the ground just outside the Great Hall, where she had waited for Hermione, was the only thing keeping the throw up inside her body at this moment. "You don't want detention, do you?"

"Don't care." Ginny shot off. "I'm ill."

"You're just nervous, or worried I think would be a better word." Hermione pacified. "This was going to happen eventually, Ginny. You just need to face this and be over with it all."

"Easy for you to say." Ginny grumbled and then swallowed hard at the burst of acid at the back of her throat. That was close, she better stop talking. The halls were clearing out around her. Students started to disappear around corners, and break into a run down the hallway. She stared at the floor for a long moment, feeling the vomit rise and put her hands over her mouth.

"Are you going to be sick?" Hermione backed up a bit from her. "Ginny what could have possibly gone so wrong in that classroom with him that you're about to vomit at the thought of being next to Neville?"

Ginny turned to Hermione, hands still over her face, swallowed hard, and then said behind her hands,

"Everything."

Hermione raised a skeptical eyebrow. Ginny looked back out at the empty hallway and dropped her hands.

"Can you tell me?" Hermione gently asked, putting a hand on Ginny's shoulder. Ginny sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. Jenna's exercise of spying had brought into sharp focus the fact that over the last month or so she had cut everyone out. Not letting people you cared for know things about you was hurtful to everyone involved. If she was really trying to get better, if she was supposed to be following Jenna's advice, she needed to start letting people back into her life and stop trying to…control the situation. She sighed internally, it all kept coming back to control, didn't it?

"You remember everything I told Harry…that day." Ginny started quietly. Hermione's hand squeezed her shoulder briefly, a signal that she remembered. "It was all true. And once I had come back to school after we…" Ginny stopped and took a big breath.

"Fought. He never said it was over, Ginny. It's just a break." Hermione whispered.

"I knew the second Neville saw me he was going to know something was wrong. And the second Neville saw me, that morning, he did. He cornered me in a classroom. He pried the information about the fight out of me. And when I told him that I thought Harry and I were finished, he told me that he had been waiting for it, and he tried to kiss me." Ginny finished, keeping her eyes away from Hermione and the reaction she knew was about to spread across her friend's face.

"NO!" Hermione gasped. The remaining students looked over their shoulders as they left to hurry along toward class. Ginny snapped her eyes to Hermione and hissed,

"You're so surprised?"

"That he thinks he loves you, no. That he had no decency and tried to force himself on you, yes!" Hermione hissed back. "That's just unacceptable. I thought so much better of him."

"Well, it happened. And then I had to practically throw him across the room, and then I ran upstairs and…well you know the rest." Ginny finished and tapped her fingers against the pocket that had her faucet trophy in it, despite having it the trinket didn't make her feel any less anxious.

"I see now why you're nervous. But Ginny," Hermione turned toward her and cocked her head to the side to try and get Ginny to look at her. "You told him no, right?"

"I told him no, _several_ times, and in several different ways." Ginny said and then pursed her lips together and blew out a long breath between them.

"Then you don't have to worry. Even if he has no decency he's not stupid. Neville won't try to do anything now that he knows you don't feel the same way for him." Hermione pushed away from the wall. "Besides, we'll be too busy the whole time working on our projects for the term; he won't have a chance to say anything to you."

Ginny wanted to believe her, desperately wanted to believe her, but her gut told her that Neville wasn't done yet. And if there was anything left in this world she could trust it would be her gut instinct. Maybe not today, but he'd try again. He hadn't single-handedly kept the Underground running because of a lack of persistence. Ginny moved away from the wall as well and silently followed Hermione down to the Greenhouses.

* * *

It was only Hermione's firm push into the Greenhouse that made her go to class that day. As expected, all eyes turned toward her, except for Neville's. As expected, Professor Sprout gave her a verbal reprimand for being late, but no house points were taken away. Just as she could have predicted Hermione had leveled one of her 'wide eyed, slightly nodding head, tiny noise of encouragement' looks that she usually reserved for Ron or Harry at her. But unlike what her churning stomach and frantic mind had predicted for her first encounter with Neville after she had forcefully ended their friendship, Neville had turned to her and said,

"Good morning, Ginny."

"Good morning, Neville." She automatically responded and set her bag down. Professor Sprout announced to the class that they needed to keep working on their current projects and she would be walking around to inspect them all. Ginny settled down on the stool next to Neville, silently, and put her hands down onto the tabletop.

Months ago, she had let Neville take the reins of their Herbology project. It was his forte, and she had far too much homework to be as involved in a project as big as he wanted it to be. She had suggested Weeping Roses; she already knew Neville was an expert at that. Neville had brushed it off with a laugh and told her he wanted to do something a little more dangerous. Flash forward to the present and now she found herself staring at one of the ugliest, meanest looking plants she had ever seen. More importantly she looked over at Neville knowing that they were going to have to communicate if she were to get out of class alive today.

Neville had cross-bred Devil's Snare, Venomous Tentacula, and a Muggle plant called Delairea. Ginny had commented that the Muggle plant just looked like Ivy to her, but Neville had assured her that it was a nuisance to most people and almost impossible to kill. The result of his success was a plant so evil it had to be contained with several charms and a protective glass wall around it. Every month they had to chart the growth and progression of their project, and they had to take a soil sample to see if the plant was changing the environment around it. They had been taking turns on who had to brave going beyond the glass to take the soil sample. This month marked her turn.

"So just the sample then?" Ginny asked keeping her eyes on the moving, pulsing, thorny wickedness in front of her. The last time she had tried to take the sample one of the spiky red and green tendrils had whipped out and wrapped around her hand, trying to drag her into the glass encasement.

"Yes, I'll do the measurements." Neville answered. Ginny slid on her gloves and moved toward the small glass door at the front of the enclosure. The monstrosity that they had created swayed and jabbed at the protective glass. Ginny looked through the glass to see Hermione watching her intently while digging the same hole over and over again. Taking a deep breath Ginny swished her wand,

"_Incendio_!"

At the end of her wand a bright ball of fire hovered around the tip and Ginny waited a moment to grab the door and get the sample. But to her absolute horror the part of the plant that was Devil's Snare was _not _recoiling away like it was supposed to.

"Neville," Ginny said as she kept her eyes on the still twisting plant. "It seems to have grown immune to fire."

"What?" Neville looked up from his measurements and moved to stand right next to her. So close that when their elbows touched as he leaned toward the enclosure it startled her into losing her concentration and her fire sputtered out. The plant actually lunged at the glass toward them and they both let out startled yells as they jumped back from the encasement.

"We have to destroy it." Ginny said raising her wand.

"No!" Neville threw out an arm to stop her and they both turned to look at each other. Neville blushed for a split second and then turned sheet white again before mumbling, "I'll just get the sample. Stand back."

"But it's my turn. It's only fair." Ginny replied. Neville turned away from her, violently shoved his hands into his gloves, and with a mean little laugh said,

"Fair? You want to be 'fair' to me?"

"I just meant…" Ginny started and then stopped herself. She was only going to dig this hole further if she tried to pacify him. "Fine. Get the sample yourself then."

Ginny leaned against the table, holding back her huff of breath and looked out toward Hermione who was still watching while digging the same hole. Ginny snapped her fingers and Hermione startled awake and looked down at what she had done. The two shared a grin and then Neville opened the glass door.

At first the monster plant barely moved at all, most would consider that lucky. Ginny took the offensive side and decided the plant was about to strike. Pulling her wand out she watched as Neville stared down the plant and then tried to jab his hand in to fake it out. The plant still swayed, waiting for Neville to come within striking distance. Neville seemed to think that their evil creation was going to let him get the sample and he moved up close to the door, shoved his two hands in and started to dig around to scoop up the soil needed.

That was when the first thorny red and green vine whipped out and wrapped around Neville's right arm, within a split second another vine grabbed him and before Ginny's eyes he was being dragged into the glass cage. The whole greenhouse stopped what they were doing, Neville tried to struggle against it, which only made the plant suck him in further, and yelled out,

"Do something, Ginny!"

She stared at the scene before her for a moment trying to come up with something, anything. It had grown a resistance to fire, the Muggle side of it was almost immune to any kind of poison, and she couldn't remember how to combat the Venomous Tentacula. She watched in horror as the thorns started to whip at Neville drawing blood in their swaying and striking. Then she had it,

"_Petrificus Totalus_!"

It froze for a moment, Neville pushed his way out, she grabbed the back of his robes to assist, Neville dug out a handful of soil, and then slammed the glass case door. The plant shook off the spell and banged at the glass, enraged. Neville dropped the soil into the container and looked over at her, covered in dirt and blood,

"Nice work."

"I try." She shrugged. "The way it was moving about reminded me of the Whomping Willow."

"All the same." He nodded and looked down at his bloody hands and torn robes.

"You should probably go see Madame Pomfrey. I wouldn't be surprised if the thorns were full of poison." Ginny offered and moved to the counter to screw the lid on the container. Neville let out a large laugh and nodded,

"I bet you're right." With a wave at Professor Sprout, showing her his injuries, he picked up his backpack and put a warm hand on her shoulder, "thanks Ginny."

She froze under the contact and focused on the lid of the container instead and mumbled, "welcome."

With a squeeze of her shoulder he left the Greenhouse and she looked down at her shaking hands rattling the soil container around. She tried to fight the urge to vomit as her gut instinct reacted to his leaving form. He had misunderstood the entire exchange. What was she supposed to do? Let the plant devour him or strangle him to death or whatever it was that the evil creation did? She couldn't just let him get sucked in and wait for someone else to solve the problem. It would appear that from now on, no matter how small, she was going to have to be very careful with what she did and said around Neville. Despite what she had thought was a final answer to his feelings toward her, it would appear that this was far from over.

* * *

Thursday night proved to be the day of Yule Ball meltdowns. All over the school girls were sobbing onto their friend's shoulders, boys were huddling together to plan their attack, and couples were fighting constantly. The ball was three days away, with a Hogsmeade trip planned for that Saturday. If a younger student wasn't weeping over not going, she was sniveling over her robes. Hermione and Dean had their hands full the entire evening with tearful fourth years and hexed fifth years, Hufflepuffs trying to break into the Gryffindor common room to ask out sixth years, and the seventh and eighth year students watching it all with mild horror. They had all been through a Yule Ball, and at this long into their Hogwarts career either knew who was taking them, or had a ready-made partner.

Ginny had buried herself behind a mountain of books and stacks of parchment in one of the oversized armchairs by the fire. For the most part people were leaving her alone. It wasn't until Hermione and Dean appeared looking harassed and drawn out that the attention of the room shifted from the minor dramas around her back to what could prove to be a major drama when Hermione and Dean were involved.

"If one more fourth year asks me who I'm taking to the Yule Ball I'll turn them into a hedgehog." Dean fell into a chair. Hermione pulled her frizzy hair back from her face and fixed crazed eyes on Ginny,

"Dresses?"

"Huh?" Ginny tensed.

"We need dresses for the Yule Ball, Ginny. Unless you packed some magnificent gown I didn't know about." Hermione snapped. "Do you have your robes, Seamus?"

"Of course." Seamus slowly nodded taking in Hermione's frazzled appearance.

"I see." Hermione narrowed her eyes. "At any rate, we need to get our dresses. I've heard they are clean out in both Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. So I had an idea." Hermione leaned toward Ginny and pushed a piece of parchment away from her hiding face.

"Please don't tell me we're going to make them." Ginny groaned.

"Of course not. We'll just go to a Muggle dress shop in London. We can Floo out from the Hog's Head to the Leaky Cauldron and take off on foot from there."

"Are you sure that's allowed?" Ginny crossed her arms and gave Hermione a suspicious look.

"Like you haven't done it yourself before?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at her. "We'll be back before you know it and we'll have dresses. I don't want to deal with this crowd." She glanced around the common room with a knowing look.

"If you say so, Hermione." She shrugged and pulled a book up from the floor.

"Thompson! I see you!" Hermione shouted and jumped up from her seat.

* * *

"Come on, Ginny! You have to get up. We're running late." Hermione's voice startled her into consciousness. It felt like she had just fallen asleep after her marathon study session when Hermione started making noise as she was getting ready the next morning. She was in the same position as she'd fallen into her bed, and though she hadn't had a single dream to speak of still felt exhausted.

Hermione called out again from the bathroom and she groaned and rolled to her feet. As soon as they touched the floor she hissed from the cold and looked out the window to see nothing but white. It was snowing again. She felt a deep sense of foreboding. Heavy snow meant everyone was trapped in the castle, including Neville. She didn't like those odds. Her stomach rolled a little as her apprehension grew. Nothing good would come of this day.

And sure enough, as soon as she sat down for breakfast, Neville leaned across the table, stole a blueberry muffin right from a sixth years hand and put it down on her plate.

"Last one. They're your favorite."

"No thank you." She glared, keeping eye contact with Neville as she picked up the muffin from her plate and blindly handed it back to the sixth year. Neville gave a little nod and looked back down at his plate.

On Saturday, as she was sitting in her favorite chair again, surrounded by piles and piles of her make up work, Neville approached her again. This time he held out a box of self-inking quills.

"You've been shaking that one a lot. I had an extra box." He held it out in front of her and smiled.

"No thank you." She looked back down at her course work.

"Really, it's nothing I…" Neville shook the box a little to get her attention and she slammed her quill down onto her notes.

"I've been shaking my hand because it keeps cramping from all this course work." She turned her wrist and it let out several pops to further illustrate. "So no thank you."

He nodded and backed away and into the growing chaos the common room was becoming the closer and closer they got to the Yule Ball.

Although he took a break on Sunday he started right up again on Monday. He offered her his notes from the week she missed Transfiguration. She had quickly flashed him Hermione's copy that she was working from and, again, politely refused.

Tuesday he changed tactics. While within earshot of her, he loudly exclaimed to Dean and Seamus that he would be taking Hannah Abbott to the Yule Ball instead. Ginny had rolled her eyes while she kept reading. Seamus, bless him, had given Neville a quick pat on the shoulder and replied,

"Better move, mate. You should take someone who wants to go. You know?"

Neville let out a frustrated noise and stormed away from the two of them and Seamus called after him,

"Was it something I said?"

Ginny looked up at Seamus and he gave her a wink before he tugged Dean away for some exploding snap. Ginny smiled and looked back down at her Divination reading.

Wednesday Neville fumed alone all day. He refused to sit with anyone, not even Luna, and frowned at her whenever they did manage to cross paths. Which was every single class, of course. Hermione, noticing her tension, had put a supportive hand on her shoulder each time. It only made her feel more anxious. He should have given up by now.

She felt like heaving before class again by Thursday. Luckily they were just working on their essays in the castle because the Greenhouses were snowed in. But just as soon as Ginny felt she could start to finally relax a little from Neville's failed advances he snuck up behind her, leaned over her shoulder, and pointed out a mistake on her essay.

Her quill tip snapped off she pressed down so hard on it, the entire class froze waiting to see what would happen, and she took a deep breath before attempting to calmly say,

"Hermione will catch them. You can stop."

"Just trying to help." Neville backed away from her a little, and she looked over her shoulder to bark,

"Don't."

Neville shrugged and moved back toward his seat, everyone started back on their essays, exchanging long glances with each other, and Hermione put a cool hand on her forearm, but she shook it off. She shook her head, banished the broken quill to the trash, and rummaged around in her backpack for a few minutes for a new one before she realized it had been her last quill. As she let out her frustrated sigh Hermione silently slid one over to her.

"Thank you." Ginny whispered and started working again.

By Friday the whole school had heard about the spat between her and Neville and the students were buzzing with gossip. It would appear that with the Yule Ball only days away now, order within the castle was hanging by a thread. Most of the gossip she was able to turn into white noise, she had gotten so used to it that she rarely heard what anyone was saying anymore. Other than Hannah Abbott. Hannah had taken to giggling and squealing with her herd of Hufflepuff followers at all the incredibly mundane details of her upcoming date with Neville. Ginny honestly didn't care, but Hannah always made a point to put on a show whenever she passed.

She fought the urge to glare, instead ignoring her altogether, but imagining tackling Hannah to the floor and punching all the giggles out of her. Those little daydreams made it possible for her to make it through most of the week, but by Friday she was worn out. She was one giggling fit away from packing her bags and leaving the castle early, expulsion be damned. So as she stabbed at her eggs again while Hannah's peeling laughter filled the Great Hall she turned to Hermione and quietly said,

"I can't take much more. I think I'm just going to leave. What's McGonagall going to do to me anyway if I don't come to the Yule Ball? Give me detention?"

"Ginny you can't leave." Hermione sighed.

"I have to."

"No," Hermione said as she flicked her wand and banished what was left of Ginny's mutilated eggs. "You have to stay because you not being here will only make it worse. Just ignore it, Ginny."

"I feel like I'm going to scream!" Ginny harshly whispered back.

"Well," Hermione gave her a sympathetic look before shrugging and responding, "make sure you put up a silencing charm before you do."

Ginny dropped her face into her hands and bowed over her breakfast plate. Two days. Two days. She could do it.

But it was dinner that night that finally sent her over the edge. Neville had left her alone for most of the day, talking instead to Luna and some Hufflepuffs that he had become friendly with since his sudden interest in Hannah. Ginny had kept her head down and her mouth shut, and the urge to scream had slowly subsided as the day pressed on. But as she stood to leave from dinner, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Neville stand to leave as well.

She ignored that, hoping he was going over toward Hannah, and continued walking out into the entrance to the Great Hall. Students were gossiping and talking, exchanging notes and candy, she even caught one of them trying to discreetly hand off some contraband Weasley products and smiled. As she turned to go she felt him come up behind her and throw his arm over her shoulders. Before, when they were friends, this would have been a normal gesture. Now it made her skin crawl and she froze. He squeezed her shoulders tighter and she swallowed hard before hissing through her teeth,

"Let. Go."

His fingers rubbed her shoulder a little and then lingered across her back as he slowly retracted his arm. She turned on the spot, wand raised, and darkly warned,

"Do it again and lose an arm."

"Don't be like this, Ginny." He murmured, the entryway exploded with the hiss of whispers, and she wordlessly flicked her wand and then stormed away as her Bat Bogie Hex took full effect.

* * *

After at least twenty minutes of stalking around the castle Ginny found herself climbing the stairs to the Astronomy tower. Giving a quick glance around so she wouldn't stumble on couples hiding in the shadows, she made a quick loop around and saw a familiar head of blonde hair.

"Luna?"

"Ginny!" Luna smiled and patted the oversized throw pillow next to her. Ginny flopped down onto the floor and looked up through the opening. Luna had fixed up the space with heating charms and a siphoning charm, so that as the snow gently fell toward them it was evaporated and siphoned off to the side. It was almost as if you were looking up through a window into the evening, except it was perfectly clear.

"What brings you up here tonight?" Luna questioned as she looked up into the opening, shifting into a lying position on her pillows.

"Had to get away. I am so glad that we are going home in two days. I can't take much more of this." Ginny sighed and slid down so that she too was lying on her back, next to Luna. "What about you?"

"I was feeling contemplative. We're halfway through our last year here." Luna quietly answered, never looking away from the falling snow.

"That's…" Ginny stopped to really think about that. "Wow. That went by extremely fast. Didn't we just get on the train here yesterday?"

"Didn't we just storm the Department of Mysteries last month?" Luna said with a little laugh and turned to look at her.

"Oh, Merlin Luna." Ginny laughed as well. "You're making me feel old right now."

"We're both far too young to feel old, Ginny." Luna smiled and looked back up at the snow. "But it is important to stop and remember where you've been. I've tried to do it at least twice every year that I've been at Hogwarts. It gives you a wonderful perspective on your life."

"Where I've been will take far too much time." Ginny sighed and closed her eyes for a moment.

"Too much time, or is it just too hard to remember?" Luna shifted on her pillows.

"Both." Ginny opened her eyes again. "I don't even know if I should think about everything that's happened to me."

"Too hard because it brings you pain, or too hard because you can't remember?" Luna pushed and Ginny propped herself up to her side and turned to face Luna.

"Why don't you just say what you're thinking?" Ginny offered.

"You're different." Luna started, still looking at the snow. "The Ginny I befriended when we were thirteen and the Ginny you are now are two totally different people."

"But we grew up, Luna. It happens." Ginny said.

"Well…you were always very strong willed. Had a temper. Very funny. But there was a softer side to you. Once the war really started to gear up…I'd say our fourth year, you started to harden. Things weren't funny, you thought a lot more, you were introspective and careful. By the time the Underground started you had become stone almost. Everything that happened around us you seemed unaffected by. You were in total command, you knew where everyone was at any given point in the day. You gave out missions, and told convincing lies to everyone, sometimes just to save us. You were so hard I don't think I ever saw you cry. And there was a lot to cry about." Luna twisted something in her hands and looked over.

"Of course there was." Ginny nodded.

"But you had changed. You had to be this person or everything was going to fall apart. But what happens when you don't have to be that person anymore? It's hard to let go. It's hard for anyone to give up that kind of control. So you changed a third time, this summer." Luna sat up, her hair falling around her shoulders, framing her face, and highlighting her wide grey eyes. "That's why I think this has been so hard for you Ginny. Everything with those newspapers, and with Neville, and with Harry, it's all slowly driven you mad."

"You think I've finally gone bonkers?" Ginny frowned.

"No I think you're a bit lost." Luna reached over and put a hand on her arm.

"Lost?" Ginny moved to sit up as well.

"When we were thirteen you were still just Ron's little sister. A Weasley, which is still something to brag about in its own right. By the time we were sixteen you had made a name for yourself. First you were Harry's girlfriend, but then you were running the Underground, everyone knew about you. But now? Now I think you've just lost your way a bit. Who are you? All of the above, I suppose, but that still doesn't define you anymore." Luna trailed off, looking back out into the snow and quirking her face into a look of deep thought. Ginny picked over her words carefully. Luna was rarely wrong, and being one of her closest friends made her almost infallible when it came to solid advice about her life.

"So how do you find the path back, then?" Ginny broke up the silence with her question.

"I suppose you have to think about what you can and can't control about yourself, and go from there. Then you'll find the true path to yourself." Luna turned back and smiled. "At least that's what I do."

"Control, huh?" Ginny stopped the dark laugh attempting to bubble up to her lips. It just kept coming back to control, didn't it?

"It's sad we can't be friends with Neville anymore." Luna sighed and looked back up into the snow.

"You can." Ginny offered, continuing to sit.

"No," Luna frowned and turned her face to meet Ginny's. "I can't."

"Really, Luna, I'm not asking anyone to pick sides. This is between me and Neville." Ginny tried to pacify. She didn't want to be made into a villain about this, she would never tell Luna whom she could and couldn't be friends with.

"But I'm friends with Harry too. Neville was horrible to both of you. I've been watching him all term. At first I thought he would just let it go, you obviously were in love with Harry and I could tell he knew that. But as the weeks dragged on something changed his mind and…he changed as well. But not in a good way. I can't say that I'm surprised of how this all turned out, but it still makes me sad." Luna played with something in her hands again.

"Why don't you think he deserves your friendship anymore?" Ginny leaned toward Luna. Luna sat up and passed over the object in her hand into Ginny's. It was a DA coin. The same coin that they had used for the Underground as well, and written around the edge of the coin was one question: Ginny?

"He knows I'm the only one that still has a DA coin. He's been trying to get me to talk to him about you all term long. Every time it heats up it will be just that single question. And every time I never say anything. If he can't respect your wishes, and he can't be honorable toward Harry, and he tries to pry information out of me, what kind of friend is that?" Luna laid back down on her pillow and looked up into the snow with a sigh. "Like I said. It's sad, but I wasn't surprised."

Ginny looked down at the coin, feeling it heat up in her palm as she stared at it, and finally passed it back over to Luna as it burnt white hot in her hand.

"At least we still have each other." Ginny hoarsely said.

"Yes," Luna nodded still looking at the snow. "At least we have that."

"Tired." Ginny stuttered and pushed to her knees. "Bed."

"Goodnight, Ginny." Luna looked over and smiled.

"Night." Ginny returned a weak smile and stumbled around in the dark for the stairs. She tried to take a few settling breaths as she reached the bottom. The DA coin? Was nothing sacred to him? How could he? Her stomach turned and she made her way toward the common room. Sunday could not come soon enough.

* * *

Saturday morning arrived far too soon, and Ginny looked out the window to see a blizzard forming. To be fair it wasn't a blizzard, more like a winter storm. To be honest any weather wouldn't have made her want to go on this Muggle adventure with Hermione, because she didn't want to go to the Yule Ball and this only further the progression toward that horrible event.

To prepare for this possibly horrible day Ginny had asked for her sock back on her Friday session with Jenna. There had been a slight eyebrow raised by her therapist, but Ginny had assured her it was just for the jacket. She couldn't be out in Muggle London with her Captain's jacket on, and secretly she felt like the jacket might help her drudge through these last few days. The jacket reminded her of happier times, and she needed to pull that kind of enthusiasm from somewhere when she would eventually have to comment on Hermione's choice of dresses.

Hermione had given the jacket a quick glance but said nothing and ushered her down to breakfast and then practically dragged her down to the Hog's Head.

Aberforth looked up from his morning paper and gave her a look,

"And where are you two going this early on a Saturday. I was under the impression teenagers liked to sleep in."

"Big day, we need to find dresses for the Yule Ball." Hermione smiled and started to slowly inch toward the fireplace.

"Yeah, dresses." Ginny exhaled and Aberforth let out a laugh grabbing his giant mug of tea.

"Have fun." He smiled and rustled his paper and started to read again. Ginny had been hoping he would stall Hermione at least for a little bit, but no. Soon enough they were shooting up the fireplace and landing in the Leaky Cauldron.

As Hermione cleared the soot off herself Ginny took a deep breath and prepared for the stares. This was another reason she didn't want to go traveling about in two of the largest Wizarding populations in England. Sure enough the whispers and pointing started and she grabbed Hermione's arm and started pulling.

"Let's make this fast, eh?" Ginny whispered at her, Hermione took a look around, nodded and they high tailed it out of the bar.

After a stop at Gringotts to exchange their Wizarding money for Muggle money, and after a quick pop back through the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione started weaving them through several different back streets and blocks of stores until they were standing in front of a small shop.

"My Mum researched this a little for us. I wanted to have the biggest selection but at a smaller store so we weren't spotted. This is the perfect fit." Hermione gestured to the window display of a pretty pink satin gown. It was unimportant and far off the beaten path that most Wizards would travel. With a shrug she followed Hermione in.

She didn't know what she had been expecting, exactly, but being lost in a sea of colors and fluff was not it. At all the Wizarding stores there were always a few people to help you by pulling out all the dresses you needed and altering them on the spot. It appeared that Muggles had to sift through racks and racks of dresses trying to find their size and then trying to find a dress that looked alright. It was an exhausting task.

She'd managed to find one dress that didn't make her hair look atrocious and slipped into it. It was a backless, halter, dark blue satin, curve hugging, floor length gown. Hermione had settled on a sparkling white dress that poofed out a bit on the skirt, with layers and layers of sparkling gauze from the empire waistline.

At first Ginny wasn't convinced on Hermione's decision, but after they had both stared at her in the mirror for a few minutes she liked the way that it had taken the bookish, harder edges of Hermione and turned her into a softer, more feminine Hermione. It would be perfect.

"Do you think Ron would mind being covered in glitter all night?" Hermione asked.

"Of course he would. But he wouldn't say anything." Ginny answered and fingered her own dress. She did like it. It was the kind of dress that her Mum would have put immediately back on the rack and scolded that only scarlet women would wear those scraps of gown. The dark blue of it complemented her features very well; she would look appropriate for a Yule Ball. But she couldn't help thinking that it was money wasted. She should have just bought an ugly dress to showcase her distaste for the whole situation. Going to the Yule Ball meant prying eyes, whispers, pointing, people speculating why she was going with Seamus instead of Neville (whom the whole school had heard she was going with) or Harry (whom the entire world assumed she would be going with).

"Guess he'll just have to deal with the glitter." Hermione shrugged and took a final twirl in the three way mirrors. While the dress that Hermione had picked was covering her body from the chest down it was still an awful lot of skin that her bookish friend usually didn't show. Ginny smiled as she thought of the dumbfounded look her brother would have when he first saw her.

"Something tells me he won't mind." Ginny laughed and Hermione nodded and went back into the dressing room.

* * *

Once she stepped outside the bitter cold blasted her. It was almost as bad as the castle. The wind instantly picked up; flinging her hair out from the twist she'd created to keep it inside the jacket. As she attempted to control her hair the plastic covering the dress started to flap madly in the wind and she looked over at Hermione with a scowl.

"Please tell me we're getting out of here." Ginny grit through her teeth shoving a mitten covered hand over her hair to try and contain it.

"Oh," Hermione frowned. "I thought we'd get lunch."

Ginny took a deep breath and tried to center herself. It was just the irritation of the Yule Ball coming through. This was a good excuse to stay far away from Hogwarts and all the gossiping students within it.

"You're right," Ginny put a hand on her shoulder, making her hair instantly fly out again. "Let's get some lunch."

Hermione looked up and down the street for a moment trying to see which direction to go. Ginny was more than confused. She hadn't really been this deep into Muggle London before. The streets were splitting off into several different directions making the buildings almost look like giant, five storied V's. Traffic was coming down the streets, grey and white slush was covering the sidewalks and in the planters the trees were brown and black and bare. Muggles were moving up and down the sidewalks talking to each other and pointing at things. Ginny let out another breath as Hermione continued to try and get her bearing. It broke across her head as a giant cloud of white and she shifted the plastic covered dress and looked down the alleyways next to the store.

"I think there's a sandwich shop up the street from here. Maybe we should just start walking and we'll come across something." Hermione suggested, turning back to Ginny and shrugging.

"Sure, you know more than me." She yanked at Harry's jacket to zip it up a bit more and started walking away from the store. As they passed the alleyway a tall boy with curly brown hair and rounded shoulders walked right into their path.

"Excuse me," he said and pulled out a piece of paper from his black coat. He turned to Ginny and with a piercing blue glance held out the piece of folded paper to her. "Do you know where this is?"

"We're not…" Hermione started to say but Ginny grabbed the piece of paper from his hands. The boy gave her a grin and she heard Hermione shift nervously.

"Like she was saying, we're not from…" Ginny started and then the rest of her words choked in her throat as she read what was on the paper. It wasn't an address, it wasn't a map. It was a sentence. A single sentence that instantly made her eyes cloud with tears and all her breath seize in her chest.

_I've been looking for that jacket, Ginny._

"We should be going, sorry we couldn't help." Hermione said, but Ginny barely heard her voice. It couldn't be him, it shouldn't be him, but there he was. He stood there, completely still, taking in every detail of her, and waiting for her reaction all at the same time. Amidst the wind ripping down the alleyway and her hair brushing into her face, she looked up with tears in her eyes and took a shuttering breath.

"I'm," her voice broke, "so sorry."

The tears streamed down her face and she reached her mittened hand up to brush them away, but the tall boy shook his head and took a step toward her. In a quick movement he brushed his cold fingers against her cheek, taking the tears with him, and then took a step back. It made her heart lurch against her ribcage and she moved toward him.

"Ginny," Hermione put a strong hand on her upper arm pulling her back, and then turned toward the boy with a determined but frightened look on her face. "Who do you think you are, touching my friend like that?"

She ignored Hermione altogether, staring at Harry. Not Harry, whoever Harry was being forced to look like. But there was no mistaking it. The intensity of his eyes, how he was swallowing hard, how his hands were fidgeting by his side, they all told her it was him.

"A glamour?" She whispered to him.

"Polyjuice." He whispered back and Hermione took in a sharp breath.

"Oh!" Hermione dropped her hand. "Oh my. Well this is…maybe I should…" Hermione looked between the two of them for a moment and then nodded and moved a little further down the street, pretending to window shop, but keeping within earshot. Ginny turned back to Harry and took a step toward him holding the piece of paper up.

"Do you want it back?"

He smiled at her, dimples in his cheeks, flashing quite a few teeth, and she bit her lip trying not to look disappointed. Her big moment to try and explain things to him, try to make everything right again and all she could think was that he looked wrong.

"Looks better on you." He leaned forward and tugged the pocket. He took the piece of paper out of her mitten and put it into the pocket. "I don't have a lot of time." He looked down at his wrist pulling his coat back and exposing a magical watch, several hands spinning around it.

"I'm so sorry, Ha…" she started and then stopped herself when his eyes went wide. "I'm sorry."

"Did you get the blanket?" He asked looking up and down the alleyway.

"Yes. Thank you. You didn't have to do all that." She moved toward him again and he took another step back. She looked up into his face and he frowned, slightly shaking his head.

"Sorry, but you shouldn't get any closer." He checked his watch again and then exhaled. The cloud of breath broke across him and he stuck out his hand. Ginny looked at it for a moment, confused, and then it all started to click in her brain. She was supposed to be a stranger. She stuck her hand out and felt all hope of reconciling with him evaporate from her. Harry grabbed her hand, tightly, pulled her close enough to whisper and said,

"I did all that for a reason, Ginny."

She squeezed his hand back and looked up, hopeful, into his unfamiliar face,

"What are you saying?"

Harry gave her a blazing look, and then his eyes shifted past her shoulder, his hand went slack in her own and he called out past her,

"Oi, Richard! Wait up a minute!"

Ginny looked over her shoulder to see a teenage boy stop on the sidewalk and give a smile of recognition to Harry. Harry squeezed her hand again and then broke off their handshake.

"Thanks anyway. Maybe another time, eh?" He said the words nonchalantly, as if they had just had a whole conversation, but his eyes were desperate.

"Sorry I couldn't help." She managed through her throat, constricted with emotion, and took a few steps away from him, shifting her dress into both her hands to give herself something to do. Harry took a few quick steps to meet up with the teenage Muggle boy and they moved past the alleyway he left her in without a single look back.

Ginny felt a swelling of despair churn in her stomach and stumbled a bit in the alley until she landed against the side of the building. Bowing her head she tried to take deep, freezing breaths, and saw Hermione's shoes stop at her right.

"What happened?"

"I don't know." Ginny swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. "He couldn't say anything."

"Obviously not, I had no idea he was going to be going that deep undercover." Hermione gently said. Ginny looked up at her,

"What _did_ you know?"

"His next assignment was going to be in Muggle London. That's it, I swear Ginny." Hermione put a hand on her shoulder. "Even if he couldn't say anything, the fact that he talked to you…he could have blown his cover or his investigation."

"He said he gave me the blanket for a reason." Ginny looked down at the floor trying to piece it all together in her mind, but everything was fluttering and frantic in her brain. It had all happened so fast, she could have used the time better, smarter, and now it was gone. A single chance to even try and she'd blown it.

"That's great, Ginny. That's a good thing. Right?"

Ginny looked up at Hermione. She felt like it was a good thing, that's what it had seemed like. His eyes had been so desperate, that meant that he wanted to tell her something, wanted her to wordlessly understand something he just couldn't say. It must have been something good. But she still felt the despair churning within her, and second guessed herself.

"We should go back."

"If that's what you want." Hermione quietly said. The wind ripped down the alleyway again and Ginny nodded,

"It is. I need to talk to Jenna."

Hermione gave her a very concerned look, but turned and started them on their way back toward the Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

She paced back and forth in front of the red velvet couch, back and forth, back and forth; her trainers, still damp from the snow, squeaking against the castle stone. Her arms were crossed over her chest, she kept running her fingers across her chapped lips, and every time she thought she was about to put it all together she stopped, turned, and looked at Jenna. But then it would slip right out of her brain and she'd shake her head and pick up her pacing again. About five minutes into this silence Jenna cleared her throat and mildly asked,

"Was there a reason you asked me to come, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny stopped and turned to look at her. Jenna wasn't in her usual hospital attire. She had on a large black jumper, and her hair was down, something Ginny had never seen before. She looked incredibly informal and Ginny felt a flash of annoyance at herself. What was the point in dragging this poor woman here on her day off if she couldn't even say what had prompted the desperate owl?

"I'm sorry. You probably had plans. Maybe you should just go."

"That doesn't matter now. What happened today?" Jenna folded her hands in her lap and gave Ginny an open look.

"I went dress shopping in Muggle London with Hermione." Ginny started tapping her foot to stop herself from pacing again.

"That's good. And did something happen at the dress store?" Jenna prompted. Ginny shook her head a few times and then took a deep breath.

"We were leaving the store, and this boy came to ask us a question. But it wasn't some random boy. It was him." Ginny looked past Jenna into the empty infirmary. "It was Harry."

"And then what happened?" Jenna asked keeping her hands folded in her lap. Ginny looked back down at her, needing to feel some kind of stability. Her brain started to fight with itself, it felt like someone had reached inside and scrambled it around. She couldn't grasp onto feelings long enough to understand them, she could barely put any words together to explain her thoughts, and she felt that deep shaking in the bottom of her lungs that used to warn her of some kind of hysterical break. She kept her eyes on Jenna's calmly folded hands and slowly put together,

"He talked to me. Told me he left the blanket for a reason."

"And then what happened?" Jenna kept her voice casual.

"He had to leave. He was on an assignment." Ginny looked at Jenna. "So he left."

"Why did you feel that you needed to contact me after that?" Jenna leaned forward toward her.

"I don't know. I just knew I needed to talk to you." Ginny broke their eye contact, her brain swelled again with a jumble of mixed signals and misfiring brain cells and she squeezed her eyes tight.

"Maybe you couldn't articulate it at the time, maybe you are having a hard time putting it together now, but there was a reason. Just stop thinking for a moment Miss Weasley and listen to your emotions." Jenna unfolded her hands and pointed at the couch. Ginny perched herself at the edge of the seat and took a deep breath, cleared her mind for a minute and then opened her mouth and words started to tumble from her lips,

"I blew it. It was my chance and I blew it. He doesn't want me anymore. But then he's leaving me blankets, so it makes me think he does. Or maybe he just feels obligated toward me. That would be worse than him not loving me anymore. I can't believe I just stood there crying in the street." She finished and collapsed onto her lap, feeling her brain start to swirl harder against her skull.

"You just stood there because you knew he was working. You just stood there because you didn't want to compromise his mission. You just stood there because it was the right thing to do, Miss Weasley." Jenna's voice broke into her swirling brain and she nodded against her legs.

"I'm so desperately in love with him, and I'll never be able to fix this." Ginny moaned against her legs, and felt the tears sting in her eyes, that desperate churning in her stomach started again and she kept herself, deflated and defeated, folded on the couch.

"Right now. You won't be able to fix this right now." Jenna firmly said and Ginny sat up.

"You're that optimistic? I thought you didn't like him being around, that he was some kind of derailing distraction." Ginny snapped.

"You continue to live in the past and the future. Until you start living and thinking in the present, Miss Weasley you will never get better. You cannot fix the situation you've created with Mr. Potter right now. It is impossible to do. But writing off the ability to correct the problem altogether is horribly indulgent to your hyperactive mind. If Mr. Potter is what you want, then you can fix this situation." Jenna leaned toward her, waited until Ginny looked at her, and finished in a firm tone, "just not right now."

Her swirling brain paused, holding onto the words Jenna had just said, folding them into all her frantic thoughts, and then everything started to slowly ebb back down toward normal. Ginny sat up, leaned against the couch and nodded at Jenna. Her brain was still trying to piece together everything, every look that had crossed Harry's foreign face, but all with the undertone of Jenna's observation.

"Okay." She conceded.

"You have issues with control Miss Weasley. Because it was taken from you in such a harmful and frightening way you have a compulsive need to feel as if you are controlling people, situations, places, ideas, thoughts, and the relationships around you." Jenna said and folded her hands. "Keeping items from memorable situations and hiding them as you've done with this sock is just one way that this issue has risen to the surface."

"What's the other?" Ginny quietly asked but knew that she wouldn't like the answer. If it was anything like the conversation that she'd had with Luna she knew exactly where this was going.

"Don't you already know?" Jenna shook her head and leaned forward onto her knees. "Why don't you tell me what you think it is?"

"I was talking with my friend, Luna, on Thursday. She told me that I had changed. That when she met me when we were both third years that I was a different person than I was now." Ginny swallowed hard against the truth building up in her throat. Despite everything, despite the awkward situation with Neville, despite the painful situation with Harry, despite the hardship and panic she had given everyone with her antics, despite the frantic way she felt these days…the truth was still harder to admit than the lies she'd built around it. She had realized this with Luna, but it still didn't want to be vocalized.

"Please tell me what your other control issue is." Jenna locked eyes with her keeping full contact, trying to wear her down but also be a focal point of strength.

"Control." Ginny swallowed hard. "I don't like feeling like someone is controlling me. I don't like feeling like someone has the upper hand. I am scared…of Harry."

"Because." Jenna pushed, and as her blue eye burned into her own. Ginny felt her brain start to shift and tremble again. This was usually when she fought it, repressed it, but she was so tired of being sad. She just wanted to be happy again, or at least start working toward her happiness, she was so tired of running from it all. In that moment it clicked in her brain.

"Look," she closed her eyes to center herself and took a breath. "I'm not sure if this will all make sense to you, but this is what's wrong with me. I can't trust anyone. I haven't been able to trust anyone since the diary. Because when I trust someone, they control me, and I vowed to never be controlled again."

"How does that pertain to your life?" Jenna pushed.

"Because the only person I trust more than my family is Harry. I have trusted him with my life…so many times…" she felt the tears start to form in her nose and took a deep breath to stop them. "And I do trust him with my life. But I still couldn't give him complete control. And then things got all wacky in my brain…because he looks like Riddle, and he was there for all the diary…and I know he would never hurt me…but then he did, but only because I'm so fucked up."

"How does this pertain to your life?" Jenna firmly asked.

"Harry is my life. And I destroyed it because I couldn't let him have even the slightest bit of control." Ginny covered her face with her hands and started sobbing. She heard Jenna stand up and looked up through her blurry eyes to see a box of Kleenex and Jenna's smile.

"Fantastic Miss Weasley. This is truly fantastic progression. How do you feel?"

"Bloody horrible." Ginny cried and pulled a few Kleenex out of the box to mop up all her tears.

"Of course, that's to be expected. But don't you see what this means?" Jenna put the Kleenex box next to her and summoned the chair from across the floor so that she could sit down right in front of Ginny.

"No."

"Put together what we've gone over in just this little session. Despite what you felt was an estranged relationship with you and Mr. Potter he sought you out during his mission to see you. Instead of falling apart as you've done in the past in stressful situations you called on me to come. You realized that you are refusing to live in the present because…" Jenna trailed off waiting for Ginny to fill in the blank.

Suddenly it was like an explosion in her mind. A great weight lifted off her chest and she looked at Jenna through her tears and said in a broken but amazed voice,

"The present is the only place that I can't control."

Jenna absolutely beamed at her and started nodding as she sat back in her chair.

"That's a breakthrough."

"Oh Merlin." Ginny muttered to herself and looked out into the infirmary as everything started to click into place in her brain. This seemingly large problem really only boiled down to something that simple…control. If she could just give it up, little by little, things would finally start to go back to normal. No. Not normal…something new, something better. And for the first time, in such a long, long time, she felt optimistic that everything was going to work out.

"This is incredible. I am tremendously proud of you." Jenna smiled and started jotting down notes in her file. "We are out of the forest Miss Weasley, you are on your way to recovery. How does that feel?"

"Bloody fantastic." Ginny sniffled and then smiled herself. One small step at a time she would be healed.

"I think it might even be safe to wait a few days between out next meeting. You leave Monday, correct? Let's meet on Wednesday of next week. How does that sound?" Jenna looked up from her notes.

"Like progress. Actual progress." Ginny nodded, feeling a smile grow across her face again.

"That's because it is." Jenna reached over and put a hand on her knee. "And…"

"What?" Ginny sniffled.

"Ravenclaw." Jenna smiled and then sat back in her seat.

"Oh please!" Ginny yelled out, her voice still a little thick with tears. "What about the green chair, and the attitude? You're lying to me!"

"Afraid not." Jenna laughed. "Although my brothers were all in Slytherin, so make what you will of that."

"Well that says a lot." Ginny laughed and leaned back on the couch. Jenna grinned at her again, and she drew in a deliciously light feeling breath.

* * *

Author's Notes:

So a couple of notes this time around.

1) Sorry for the delay.

2) While I was blocked during this chapter I started re-reading the story and quickly came to find out (in the very first chapter) that for some reason (most likely the updates this site keeps doing) none of my breaks have been saved. So...apologizes to everyone. I will try and go through and manually put all the breaks and fix some of the other problems before the story is over.

3) All of your reviews and emails make me smile and help push me along, so thank you for the continued support.

4) As always thanks to my wonderful editor TOW Gunner. He is all things awesome and amazing and is never given enough credit for the masterful way he helps this story.


	29. Chapter 29

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 29~

_Has someone taken your faith_

_It's real, the pain you feel_

_The life, the love, you'd die to heal_

_The hope that starts the broken hearts_

_Your trust, you must confess_

_Best of You by The Foo Fighters_

* * *

Standing in an empty classroom Ginny took another cold breath and looked at the door. Just outside it students were hurrying along in their finest robes; dress shoes and heels clicking against the castle floor. Just outside the door Seamus was mostly likely tugging at his tie and looking down toward the festivities that in less than a minute she would be a part of. She knew she should be relieved, or she should at least suck it up and finish off this horrible term with her demanded appearance at this bloody Yule Ball.

"Ginny, we only have a minute left before Hermione's going to come looking for you." Seamus called through the door. She shook out her hands again and looked at her frosty breath. The castle was as cold as ever, goosebumps flushed across her skin almost to the point of pain. Her dress covered little, and she had wished she'd had the forethought to buy some kind of wrap. She closed her eyes to center herself and heard the low booming of the music in the Great Hall start. Her time was up.

"Ginny, really, it's going to be five minutes _tops_. We walk in, we have the first dance, we leave. You can survive five min….here's Hermione." Seamus yelled out.

"Ginny what are you doing?" Hermione's clipped voice came through the door next. "Honestly."

The door swung open and Ginny turned to see Hermione step into the room in all her white glittery glory. Hermione attempted to give her the 'head girl stare' that worked so effectively on all the other students, but as her balled fists disappeared into the gauze of her dress, and the soft curls fell over her exposed shoulders Ginny couldn't help but smile.

"Sorry, nerves." Ginny shrugged and leaned against the desk.

"For what? Walking?" Hermione raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. "Let's go. You don't want Professor McGonagall to come looking for you, right?" Hermione waved toward her to try and get her to move closer, her sparkling bracelet sliding up and down her forearm.

"You look beautiful, Hermione." Ginny pushed away from the desk. Hermione gave her a smile,

"Thank you. You look amazing."

Ginny nodded and followed her out of the classroom to see Ron and Seamus making small talk with each other. Ron's eyes moved over Hermione quickly and then landed on her.

"Where's the rest of your dress?" Ron took a few steps toward her with a frown. His eyes continued to roam over her and he opened his mouth to no doubt spout off something offensive when from down the hall they heard someone primly clear their throat.

"We are waiting." McGonagall called out to the four of them and Hermione quickly linked arms with Ron and tugged him down the hall. She turned to Seamus who smiled and held out his arm.

"Five minutes. Tops." He tried to soothe and she took a deep breath and let him lead her toward the entrance of the Great Hall. The halls were deserted of students but festively decorated for the Ball. Lush green wreathes adorned the walls, sprigs of holly were hanging over doorways and alcoves, sparkling garlands were hanging from the ceiling, and as they moved closer to the Great Hall she could feel the warming charms cast all over the windows and doors, cracks and crevices along the castle walls. The chill that had been making her shiver for the past half hour slowly left her body and she stopped in front of the entrance with the rest of the group.

All the conversations hushed down as McGonagall stood in front of the assemblage. Everyone looked at each other for a moment, and through the crowd she saw Michael give her a wave. Ron was still giving her a very brotherly kind of look as his arm wrapped around Hermione's waist. Dean was joking with the Hufflepuff Captain in the back of the crowd; he also took notice of her entrance and gave her a wave. Ginny looked the group over and took in a settling breath. She knew more people than she thought; maybe this wouldn't be so awful after all.

"Please line up, Head Boy, Head Girl, Prefects, then Captains." McGonagall clapped the order and everyone started to shuffle into place. Seamus shifted his light hold on her arm as if he were uncomfortable when they passed the Prefects section and she gave his arm a squeeze with her hand. Seamus' petite Ravenclaw Mystery Girl quickly looked down at her shoes when they passed and Ginny felt her heart lurch a bit in her chest. It was ridiculous that Seamus was escorting her to the Yule Ball when the woman he wanted to go with was three partners up. She would have to rectify this somehow. Maybe this was the real reason she had borrowed make-up from Hermione, and looked up the sticking charm to keep her curls in place. She fixed the bottom of her dress as she and Seamus stopped into their place in line, and shook her head a bit. No. The real reason she had slid into this dress, the reason she had strapped on impractical high heels, the real reason she had forced herself to go was the desperate hope that maybe…maybe he would come.

"Ready?" Seamus whispered to her with a squeeze and she bit her lip and then looked up and nodded. The doors for the Great Hall swung open, the music hit them with a warm blast and Ginny felt her mouth drop open at what lay before her. Shimmering into view was the Great Hall like she had never seen it before: The Head Table had been turned into a stage where the Weird Sisters were plucking away at the song that was leading them into the hall group by group. All of the house tables had been banished, replaced instead by small intimate tables that held four chairs and a centerpiece that let off soft bursts of light which showered down enchanted snow upon the occupants of the table. In the center of the room was the gleaming dance floor where each pair was moving toward and then standing, waiting for the official first dance. The holiday decorations were up on all the walls but in addition to it were flashing colored lights that were illuminating the students around the dance floor. And she couldn't be sure but it seemed as if the enchanted ceiling was raining down confetti, colored bubbles, and some kind of shiny material. To her left, squeezed up against the far wall was a refreshment table that was overloaded with sweets and treats as well as a large cauldron that was bubbling with some purple drink.

Seamus gave her another squeeze, Professor Flitwick's voice announced them out to the crowd, polite applause filled the Great Hall and she moved past the parted sea of students out onto the floor. The final group, Slytherin's Captain and date, brought up the end of their procession and the music stopped for a moment. Ginny turned and locked eyes with Seamus.

"Do you remember how to do this dance?" She asked under her breath.

"Ummm…" Seamus looked away for a moment, Ginny's heart froze in her chest, the music started up, and Seamus flashed her a grin. "Of course."

She frowned at him, he surprised her with a spin, and she let out a laugh as they moved across the floor. Seamus, it turned out, was an excellent dancer, and as the song finished up she couldn't help but smile at how easy that had actually been. Everyone politely clapped as she gave Seamus a curtsey and as the next song filled the Great Hall the dance floor flooded with the rest of the students. Seamus wrapped a hand around her wrist and helped guide her off the floor toward the far corner and the food table.

"Well, that was not as horrible as I thought it'd be." Ginny sighed and sat down at one of the tables. Seamus slid into the seat next to her and they both jumped as the centerpiece on their table exploded with pink snow.

"Horrible because you thought I'd be a horrible dancer?" Seamus looked over at her through the shower of pink snow and bouncing colored lights.

"Of course." Ginny rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. Now she would only have to stay for a few more minutes, to not seem rude, and then quietly duck out. She already had her agenda ready for the rest of the night. She would undress, pack her trunk, finish up some leftover assignments, and then crash out early to be first down to the train in the morning. Now that she had officially finished up her term she felt a wave of relief fall over her and smiled.

Looking out into the crowd she caught Ron spinning Hermione and her huge dress across the floor, his suit covered in glitter. She laughed a little and looked over at Seamus. His eyes were searching through the crowd, and upon noticing her looking at him he snapped his eyes away and politely asked,

"Hungry? Punch?"

"Don't worry about it. Your duties are over." She smiled and pushed up from her seat landing a hand on his shoulder. The song ended and she stood and looked over at the refreshments table. The cauldron full of punch was rapidly changing colors and starting to smoke. Curious.

"Ginny?" Someone asked and she turned to see Dean, his hand extended.

"Dean, that's sweet but…" She tried to beg off.

"Humor me?" He smiled and reached out a little further. She looked over at Seamus; he tipped his chair back and waved her off.

"Fine, one dance." Ginny gave him a serious look.

"Just one, I promise." Dean squeezed her hand and pulled her out toward the crowded dance floor. Thankfully it was a faster song, Dean twirled her around the floor a few times, she even let out a laugh as he dipped her at the end, and then dutifully escorted her back to Seamus who had a plate of food in her spot and was holding onto a cup of punch. Dean disappeared back into the crowd and Ginny reached over and snatched a biscuit off the table.

"Thanks!" She called out to Seamus over the music. Seamus looked around her and nodded his head. Ginny turned around to see Michael approaching with a huge grin.

"Ginny," he called out toward her. "You didn't think we'd have another Yule Ball and I wouldn't dance with you, right?" He extended out his hand. Ginny looked over at Seamus again, Seamus raised his glass toward her; she dropped her biscuit back to the table, and turned to Michael.

"One." She commanded. He nodded a few times and guided her out toward the floor. As the music cued up she recognized it as one of the formal dances that they had learned at the Yule Ball in her third year. She and Michael easily filed into step with the other students who remembered it on the floor. After a final tight spin the song ended and she gave Michael a quick hug and made a bee-line for the back table and Seamus, who was eating a slice of pumpkin pie.

Right as she was about to shove the biscuit into her mouth she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around to see Luna in a beautiful deep red wine-colored dress.

"Luna!" Ginny smiled and took a step back to admire her friend's formal dress.

"Hello Ginny." Luna smiled. "Would you dance with me?"

"Well," Ginny blanched for a moment. "Shouldn't you be dancing with your partner?"

"Oh, he's gone off with another girl from our year. To tell you the truth I think he only asked me so he could make sure he was here to dance with her. But I would like to dance a bit, just not alone." Luna took a few steps back toward the floor. Ginny looked back at Seamus, he waved his fork at her; Ginny scowled at him, and then followed Luna out to the pulsing dance floor. It was a fast song, everyone seemed to just be dancing with the group, there really wasn't a lot of partnering. Ginny shrugged and squeezed in with Luna on the floor. The Weird Sisters went instantly into another song and the crowd let out a roar of approval continuing to sway and move around.

Mostly Ginny just tried to mimic Luna's erratic dance moves, but much more subtly. As the second song was starting to wrap up a ball of white started moving toward them, and Ginny caught a glimpse of red hair as well. Luna was still swaying around, flailing her arms and swinging her long hair, and Ginny tried to get her attention. Luna didn't seem to be catching onto her, and Ginny fought the urge to just run from the dance floor. This night was going so well, despite her terrifying nightmares about it, she didn't need some kind of lecture from Ron. And yet he leveled a measured look at her as he pushed through the crowd and landed next to them. The rest of the crowd continued to dance as Ron crossed his arms and called out to her,

"Seriously, where's the rest of your dress?"

"Prat!" Ginny shot him a dirty look and left the three of them on the floor. As the Weird Sisters rolled into a third hit the remaining students that were sitting down all jumped up from their seats and moved toward the floor. Ginny grabbed at the bottom of her dress and tried to navigate against the crowd back to Seamus. As she finally broke through she saw him exactly where she left him; leaning up against the wall, this time holding a glass of punch. He gave her a wave and she quickly clipped over but not before she grabbed a cup of punch for herself. The cauldron was now shooting off sparks as well as smoking and rapidly changing colors.

As she finally made it back to the table she put the cup to her lips and Seamus called out,

"I wouldn't drink that!"

"Why?" She set the cup down as a shower of blue snow rained down on them.

"I've been watching everyone sneak over and pour potions into there. Slughorn keeps banishing it and refilling it, but the students keep coming." Seamus explained.

"So why are you drinking it?" Ginny felt her eyes go wide as he took another long sip.

"Brought my own." Seamus reached into the pocket of his jacket and flashed her a flask. "Bit of Irish courage."

Ginny shook her head and laughed a little before she sat down in the seat in front of him, her side to the crowd and jumped again as a shower of red snow fell down from their centerpiece. The lights of the Great Hall dimmed, the Weird Sisters started playing a slow song, and all the couples tightly clung to each other on the dance floor. She looked through the snow at Seamus and they nodded to each other. Finally time to go. The rest of the school seemed to be either dancing out on the floor, or tucked into the alcoves and dark corners of the Great Hall. Seamus broke eye contact with her for a moment, his eyes traveling across the hall and then he asked, still following the path of someone,

"You're absolutely sure that Harry wasn't coming to this?"

"What?" Ginny shot up out of her seat and tried to follow his line of sight. "Where? Seamus where?" She leaned down and pulled him up out of his seat. Seamus started to bring his arm up to point when his hand instantly fell back down and he went white. Ginny grabbed him and was about to start shaking when a familiar pretty brunette in a pale pink dress broke through the crowd and started moving toward them. Seamus' hand shot out and grabbed her arm.

"Not yet Ginny." He frantically whispered and she held perfectly still and nodded slightly. The Ravenclaw Prefect slowly stopped in front of them and took a breath before fixing a smile to her face,

"Ginny, Seamus. How are you?"

"Great!" Ginny quickly answered, Seamus dropped his hold on her, and she took a step away from him, creating distance between them. "I never did catch your name."

"Rebecca." The girl stiffly offered and Ginny nodded.

"Having a good time?" Ginny asked and crossed her arms over her chest.

"It's been satisfactory." Rebecca answered and shifted on her feet. Ginny looked over at Seamus from the corner of her eyes. She sincerely hoped that his girl wasn't this stiff all the time.

"Well Seamus has been a wonderful date." Ginny tried to loosen up the conversation. Seamus jerked at the word date. "I mean friend. And only a friend. He's just a great friend that really stepped up in my time of need and took one for the team. Excellent dancer. Very attentive. Really the kind of dat..friend that you'd want. I mean who really wanted to go to this Yule Ball?" Ginny rattled off and then physically stopped her verbal vomit by biting her tongue.

"I wanted to go." Rebecca answered, but leveled her serious eyes only at Seamus. Seamus swallowed hard, but didn't look away. Ginny quickly realized that her presence was only making this more awkward and painful. Seamus dropped his shoulders; Rebecca took a step toward him and quietly asked, "Why didn't you ask me?"

"You told me you were already going with that dolt." Seamus locked a burning stare on the girl and Ginny slowly backed away mumbling,

"I'm just gonna…probably have lots to…"

As she moved past the table she caught sight of the closed doors of the Great Hall and let out a sigh of relief. She'd danced with everyone, she'd at least gotten Seamus and his Mystery Girl to start talking, though she doubted she had been much help, and she had fulfilled her obligation to 'the school' as McGonagall had put it. Grabbing up her dress so she didn't trip she paused to take another look around the Great Hall. Seamus had locked onto someone that looked like Harry. Not that she thought Harry was coming. She didn't expect him to come. But still…

Ginny looked around all the students, tried to see into the dark corners of the Great Hall, but while there were plenty of dark haired boys dancing out on the floor none of them were Harry. She had always been able to pick him out of a crowd, even when she was younger. It was as if he shimmered or glowed brighter than everyone else, making him stand out in her sight always. With a deep sigh she turned back for the door and pushed her way out into the entrance. Some students were hanging around, chatting and laughing, some students were cuddled in the corners, and then out of the corner of her eye she caught a voluminous white dress lit up from the fairy lights in a back corner. Hermione and Ron. That was fast. She chuckled to herself and moved away from their little rendezvous. She wasn't going to go anywhere near that corner, she did not need to be emotionally and mentally scarred by seeing the two of them suck the oxygen from each other. She dropped her dress from her hands and started making her way back toward her room when a blur of blonde curls and green satin stopped in front of her.

Hannah Abbot, still looking pretty despite the runny make-up from her tears, took a shuddering breath and spat out through her snuffles,

"I hope you're happy!"

"Happy?" Ginny automatically responded and took a step back from the girl. Hannah was absolutely steaming with indignation and Ginny felt everything in her body freeze. Oh no. Oh no, this was not good.

"I don't know what it is about you Ginny Weasley, but somehow you always end up getting everything you want!" Hannah angrily wiped at her tears, her curls were falling out of their hold on the top of her head, and Ginny put her hands out in front of her, a defensive position, and hurriedly responded,

"No, Hannah. No I…you don't understand…he's gone mad."

"Of course he has!" Hannah screeched out. "You've bewitched him somehow." Then she broke off into another set of tears. Ginny took a few steps toward her and Hannah promptly turned and sped down the hallway. Ginny took a few steps after her but then just dropped her hands. She was so tired of dealing with Neville and all the problems he continued to stir up. With a roll of her eyes she picked up her dress again to start her long walk back to her room when she felt a brush of cool air against her exposed back and then a warm palm right between her shoulders.

For a flash of a moment hope filled her chest, but then her gut instinct took over and she tensed. The hand started guiding her out toward the courtyard right off the entrance to the Great Hall, and her shock at what was happening made her feet move.

"Ginny I have to talk to you." Neville said as he guided her out into the courtyard. She took a few steps in front of him, out of his touch, and entered it on her own. The courtyard had been charmed to feel like a summer evening amidst the snow that surrounded it. Fairy lights were making the snow look like glitter, and Ginny turned around in the empty courtyard ready for this fight. Her dress fell from her hands and pooled at her feet and Neville stopped, his back toward the entrance to the courtyard, and looked up at her with agonized eyes.

"This better be really bloody quick." Ginny snapped.

"Please, just let me say this." He took a step toward her and she took a step back. "I've liked you for such a long time. And tonight you just look so beautiful, I have to try. I had to at least try."

"Neville," she shook her head and took a few steps to move around him. Neville caught her arm and spun her around so that now her back was to the entrance of the courtyard. "You don't have to say anything. Please don't. It's just easier this way."

"No Ginny. I can't do that. I have to tell you everything. I couldn't continue to be your friend without you knowing the truth. My friendship has been mingled with feelings for you. It started last year, and just kept building. And I can't keep this to myself any longer when you're worth risking everything for." His hand was still on her arm with gentle pressure. Her anger burned in her stomach, but her heart ached at the agonized look on his face.

This was _Neville_. Despite everything that had gone so horribly wrong between them he was still the boy that had befriended her, he was still the man that had fought along side her during the war, he was still the friend that had tried to cheer her up when she had fallen apart. It didn't erase anything that he had done, but the Gryffindor part of her, the loyal and honorable part of her, just couldn't be cruel enough to slap him and go.

"Don't do this, Neville." She quietly warned and looked down at the floor between them.

"Just tell me how you feel about me, please." He gripped her arm a little bit harder and she took a shaky, emotional breath and finally looked up.

"I'm in love with Harry. I always have been. I always will be."

"I know that." Neville moved a step closer to her. "But how do you feel about me?"

"You know the answer to that." She shivered for a moment against the draft coming from the castle despite the warming charm.

"Did you ever love me? Did you ever like me?" He continued to push.

"What more can I do to make you understand? I've been mean to you, I've avoided you, I've tried to cut you out, and I even hexed you across a classroom when you tried to kiss me after I had that horrible fight with Harry. I don't want any of that from you. I don't feel that way for you; I've never felt that way for you. How could I feel that way when everything within me has always loved Harry?" Ginny argued. Neville looked off to the side for a moment and then leveled a desperate look at her.

"But Ginny, can't you see that he's a mistake?" Neville pleaded.

"Mistake? Mistake?" She flung his arm off. "How dare you! Do _not_ pretend to know what my relationship with Harry is about."

"How could I?" Neville yelled back. "No one knows Ginny because the two of you act like it's an Unforgiveable to even mention it! And from the way you've been acting you don't even have a relationship with him! It's just you getting moodier and bitchier as the months progress because you can't stand the fact that he chose being an Auror over you! You always come in second with him. Even all of last year it was the same thing. He wasn't even here! He'd broken up with you Ginny, but he still had this hold on you. How am I supposed to compete with someone that doesn't even have to be here to control your emotions?" His voice took a bitter edge that she'd never heard before. All her boiling anger froze in her chest at his last sentence. Control.

His steaming argument threw her and she looked away for a moment trying to piece together everything that he'd said, and everything she could remember, and everything she had learned, but the heightened emotions of the situation made everything fluttering and confusing. Neville took this chance to close in for the kill. He filled the space between them and grabbed lightly onto the elbows of her arms, crossed defensively over her chest.

"I could be good for you too. That's why he's so jealous of our friendship, because he knows that. Because he saw what happened in the hospital when I was there. _I_ was the one that got you to eat, _I_ was the one that got you to talk, and to stay awake, and to smile. _Not him_. I can be good for you. We're such a good team, we always have been, and we get on so well."

"No…you just think that because you can only see it from your perspective. You might have been the one that got me to do all that Neville, but you weren't the one that saved me. It was him." Ginny looked down at their feet, feeling her blood pounding through her body with all the adrenaline and the disappointing inevitability of what they had finally come to. "It was him that slept in chairs by my bed for months. It was him that sat there and held me while I sobbed. It was him that patiently waited for me to come back around. It was Harry that stopped his life so I could find mine again. It was him, not you. My world isn't right without him in it. You _were_ a tremendous help to me, you _were_ an incredible friend." She looked back up into his face as she said this, watching him flinch as she said 'were'. "But Harry has seen me worse, and Harry has brought me back from far worse situations then a stint on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's. And even if I have to spend the rest of my life trying to fix my relationship with him, I will. Because my heart has decided, and it decided it wants him. I can't believe you destroyed our friendship because of this."

"Please don't do this, please don't cut me out." Neville pleaded and clamped his hands down on her elbows.

"This is over between us. I can't be your friend anymore. You need to let me go." She evenly said.

"But Ginny, I love you." He croaked moving so close she could feel his breath fall across her face. She clenched her jaw for a moment and then looked up at him,

"No. You don't. You don't love me. I should have never let it get this far. You're obsessed with me. You've lusted after me. You don't even understand what love is, Neville."

"No, you're wrong. I can't let it end that easily. Ginny, I could never live with myself if I didn't try to make you understand." He took a deep breath and Ginny felt her stomach flop with terror. With one fast tug he swept her up against his chest and his lips. They crushed against her own, urgent and needing. They felt utterly platonic, and with a shudder she tried to push against his strong hold making them teeter toward the planters. The warming charm was starting to wear off the closer to the snow she got; she felt a flash of goosebumps rush across her skin. She pushed again against him, and this time as she did Neville went flying off of her with a flash of red and a resounding crack. He stumbled into the bust of a house elf and it tipped over smashing to pieces all across the courtyard.

Standing in shock she heard a few quick footfalls from behind her and then Neville's shocked face turned to one of pure loathing. The person behind her took an infuriated breath and growled out,

"You stay the fuck away from her."

Ginny swung around and actually gasped. Harry. Oh sweet Merlin. Harry. As her eyes hungrily took him in she registered several more footfalls behind the three of them, but she couldn't tear her eyes away. He was actually in front of her. Dressed in the full black of his usual Auror outfit, he had trained his eyes onto Neville and was gripping his wand so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

"This has nothing to do with you." Neville snarled.

"Like hell it doesn't." Harry snapped back. Neville covered the few steps to get to her and reached out again trying to grab her arm. Harry's wand crackled and sparked ominously and Neville looked at it for a brief moment before mouthing off,

"What are you going to do? You can't hex me, you'd get suspended. I'm surprised you're even here." Neville moved to grab her again and Harry, quick as lightning, brushed past her, pocketed his wand, pulled back his arm and slammed his fist across Neville's face. It let out a sickening crack, Neville's head snapped to the side, and as he grabbed his face he folded into himself and crumpled to the floor.

Ginny heard several gasps behind her, and then Harry jumped on top of Neville, pinning him to the ground. To her horror Harry balled his fists and started punching Neville over and over again. Neville was stunned at first but then tried to fend off Harry's furious blows. Harry landed another punch, with another nauseating snap, and blood sprayed from Neville's mouth all over the courtyard. Blood started to splatter as Harry's fist connected with Neville's face again and again, and she couldn't take it anymore. Drawing in a deep breath she screamed out,

"HARRY STOP!"

Harry stopped mid punch at the sound of her voice, panting and huffing from his exertion. She reached down and yanked Harry back from kneeling over Neville.

"You stay away from my girlfriend, Longbottom." Harry snarled next to her and she grabbed his arm again, pushing him to the side of her.

Neville started to push himself up from the ground, wiping the mess of blood from his nose and mouth, but it only just smeared it. As he made the final push to his feet he drew his wand out and Ginny threw herself in front of Harry, acting as a buffer between the two men. She took a few steps backward into Harry, feeling her bare back brush against his shirt and threw her hands out. She pushed her body harder into Harry as he attempted to move toward Neville again, his wand already in his good hand, and Ginny yelled out,

"Stop it! Harry you have to stop. You're going to get in trouble."

She couldn't see Harry's reaction, but Neville locked his furious brown eyes onto her and started shaking his head. He mopped up his bleeding face again, moving toward them, and she felt Harry's arm instantly wrap across her chest, pulling her flush against him. Harry's breath was hot, his heart was beating wildly against his ribs, his body was twitching with his restrained anger, and she felt her cold, exposed skin burn slightly against the heat radiating off of him. Neville grimaced as he touched his rapidly swelling injuries.

"So this is it?" He gestured toward Harry, and Ginny never broke eye contact with him as she nodded and replied,

"Yes. That's what I've been trying to tell you all along. My answer will always be no."

"If that's what you want." Neville gave her a searing look, pleading with his eyes to reconsider, but scowling all at the same time. His nose was bleeding badly, his lip was swollen and cut up, and a black bruise was starting to stain the skin around his left eye. He looked off behind them at the group Ginny was positive had formed at the entrance of the courtyard.

"It is." Ginny held her breath, hoping that he would finally accept the decision she had been beating into him for the past few months. Neville nodded, shot one last dirty look at Harry, and then brushed past them on his way out of the courtyard, dripping blood onto the flagstone.

As soon as Ginny heard him shoving past the crowd to their backs she sagged with relief against Harry, dropping her head, and let out deep breaths. Then she felt her nose prickle, her eyes burned, and she bit her lip to stop the flood of tears that started to form in her throat. Why was she even crying? Relief? Sadness? Because of everything that had happened? She didn't know. It was probably everything. As her shoulders shook and the first few tears spilled down her face Harry loosened his hold and gently turned her around in his arms. She could barely make out through her tears that the courtyard entrance held a smattering of people. Carefully Harry ran his fingers over her arms and murmured,

"Did he hurt you?"

"Of course not." She answered and took a deep breath stopping her tears. With a quick swipe across her face she reached down and grabbed his right hand. The knuckles were rapidly swelling; it had to be broken.

"Are you going to get in trouble?" She asked.

"No." He quickly answered but didn't look at her.

"Harry." She let go of his hand, but still couldn't bring herself to make full eye contact with him.

"Probably." He hung his injured hand at his side.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen." Ginny continued to look at his hand to quell the overwhelming urge to throw her arms around him and never let go. She didn't know if she was allowed to do that anymore, she didn't know what was between them. Harry continued to stand there and she swallowed hard against the ball of tears threatening to break through again.

Ginny looked around at the ruined courtyard, pieces of the marble bust of the house elf spreading wide across the small floor, mixing with the blood. Harry continued to just flex his hand, and Ginny felt her body fill with panic. This wasn't how this was supposed to happen. Maybe _she_ wasn't supposed to do anything, but he had been sending her blankets and risking blowing his cover to see her. He was supposed to grab her and kiss her, or tell her that he was just defending her honor because of their history and that their relationship really was over. But he had called her his girlfriend. She was so confused.

Someone cleared their throat at the entrance of the courtyard and Ginny looked around Harry to see Luna approaching.

"Ginny, I think you two should probably leave. We were able to seal off the courtyard for a moment, but it might be better to sort this all out in private." Luna stopped between them. "Hello, Harry."

"Hi, Luna." Harry nodded at her and then turned around, as they both looked at who had witnessed their brawl. Dean was leaning against one of the pillars. Seamus was holding Rebecca's hand tightly as they both look at her, stunned. Hermione was leaning into Ron, his arms draped over her shoulders, her hands holding onto his arms. Hermione pressed her lips together and Ron looked at the two of them briefly before looking away. Ginny opened her mouth to agree with Luna when the charms that her friends had created for her were suddenly swiped away. The noise from the dance, the shuffling of the crowd of Hogwarts students, and the growing hissing whisper that hit them made all her tears freeze in her chest. Oh no, now the whole school was going to be a part of this disaster as well? She balled her fists at her side, ready for the onslaught when McGonagall quickly stepped through.

"What is the meaning of this? Why was this courtyard sealed off?" Then McGonagall did a double take and finished in a confused voice, "Potter?"

"Headmistress." Harry nodded. There was an awkward pause where McGonagall looked around at the ruined courtyard, then back at all her friends still waiting, and then her eyes landed on the two of them. Harry took a deep breath, as if ready to take the blame, when Ginny took a few steps forward and blurted out,

"This was all my fault."

McGonagall gave her a very long, measured look. Ginny felt herself squirm a bit under that judging stare, but then when she thought she couldn't take much more the Headmistress nodded and said,

"Very well." Then she clapped her hands and commanded, "everyone go back to the Yule Ball!" With a swish of her wand the courtyard was cleaned, and shooing students back into the Great Hall she turned to face her and Harry again. Ginny looked out at the horde of students still hanging back and whispering to each other. They were blatantly pointing, and Ginny felt her whole body grow weary with what the next few hours would be like. Let alone the train ride back tomorrow. Oh Merlin…the train ride back. That was going to be torturous. She hunched with defeat next to Harry and felt his eyes roam over her.

"Headmistress?" He called out and took a few steps away.

"Mr. Potter?" She stopped and turned to him.

"I was wondering if I could escort Ginny back home tonight." He said, giving a significant look to the crowd. Ginny instantly straightened up.

"Tonight?" McGonagall pursed her lips.

"With your consent, of course." Harry amended. McGonagall looked at the two of them again and then her eyes swept out and took in the groups of students still hanging around and watching them.

"You're all packed, Miss Weasley? You'll be sure to inform your parents you won't be returning on the train?" McGonagall asked.

"Yes." Ginny quickly answered, staying completely still. She was afraid if she moved she'd realize this was all just some wild dream and she would wake up on the train with students trying to peer through the window to her compartment.

"Very well." McGonagall nodded and straightened her dress robes. "You'll have to walk to the boundary, send off a signal and I'll open the gates for the two of you."

"Thank you." She said at the exact same moment as Harry. McGonagall gave a tiny smile to Harry and then quickly made her way out of the courtyard, barking out to the students,

"Why are you standing there? Return to the Ball or I will send you back to your common rooms!"

Ginny watched as Dean nodded to her and left, Seamus offered a little wave and tugged Rebecca with him back toward the Ball. Luna continued to smile at the two of them, and then Harry held out his good hand, still a few steps away from her, and she reached out and grabbed it. As her fingers wrapped around his own she looked down at their hands and smiled. Suddenly she remembered her backpack still up in the common room and she snapped her head back up,

"Oh! Hermione could you…"

"Don't worry about it. I'll drop it off tomorrow." Hermione smiled, and Harry gently tugged her hand.

"Thank you." She looked at Hermione and Luna and then took the few steps to close the gap between her and Harry. Harry looked over, smiled at Hermione and then he and Ron shared a terse nod before he pulled her past them all and out into the entrance of the Great Hall. The remaining stragglers moved out of their way as they strode past and right before they turned to walk out the front doors Harry dropped her hand and shrugged out of his coat.

He draped it over her shoulders and she suppressed the moan of pleasure that threatened to come out. It was so blissfully warm it made her skin burn in the best kind of way. She felt him put a palm on the small of her back and they started moving forward again out into the empty, freezing, snow covered grounds. As the doors swung shut behind them all the background noise of the Yule Ball ceased and it was just her rapidly beating heart, and Harry's nervous shifting as they slowly made their way down toward the front gate – in silence.

About twenty steps away from the castle her heel sunk through the grass and she lurched forward,

"Blast." She cursed and tried to yank her foot out of the muck of snow and mud.

"What happened?" Harry let go of her and looked her up and down. She jerked her leg up again and the heel squelched free from the mud, causing her to stumble and land on Harry. He quickly righted her and then let her go.

"Thanks." She fixed the black pea coat on her shoulders and slid her hands through the sleeves, buttoning the coat up. "My heel was stuck."

"You're wearing heels?" Harry looked down at her feet and she pulled up her dress to reveal the strappy shoes. "Oh."

Harry nodded, she let her dress fall back down, and then they both silently started their walk again. Ginny let out a frosty breath and glanced over at Harry from the corner of her eyes. He was taking tiny breaths, as if to start a conversation, and then he'd clench his jaw, frown, and let the air back out. She wanted to break the silence but she seemed to be as tongue tied as he was. They were halfway down to the front gate when her heel sunk again and she stumbled forward.

"Bugger!" She yelled out, her voice echoing out into the surrounding mountains and Harry lit his wand and offered her an arm to pull herself back out again. With an awkward yank she righted herself and gave him a weak smile. "Thank you, Harry."

"No problem, Ginny." He smiled back and then dropped his hands again. Ginny felt her stomach clench with the warning of tears. This was all far too formal. He was going to Apparate her back to her home, tell her that he's glad he could defend her honor, ask for his jacket back, and tell her that maybe it would be better if they stayed apart. She bit her lip, hard, and swallowed. They reached the front gate and Harry wordlessly twisted his wand and a large red spark flew up into the air. As the gate slowly swung open Ginny felt a very sudden and very real urge to plead with him. She moved through the gate, it clicked back shut and she turned to him,

"Harry I…" Her voice choked off in her throat at the look on his face. It was a mix between anxiety and sadness and she felt her mouth quirk into confusion. What could he possible be nervous about? A few clouds of white breath were exchanged, tensely, between them before he nodded and said,

"Yes?"

Despite her need to answer she shivered instead, even with the warmth of his jacket. Wearing heels and a satin gown in the thick of the winter snow wasn't the smartest choice. Her arms wrapped around herself as she convulsed with the shivers and Harry seemed to really see her for the first time that night.

"You must be freezing. I'm sorry. Why did we walk all the way down here? That was stupid of me. I suppose I should take you back to your house." He took a few crunching steps toward her, his boots flattening the snow and wrapped a firm hand around her arm.

Panic. Pure, pulse-quickening panic filled her. He couldn't take her home. That would be the end of everything; she could feel it.

"No!" She yelled out. Then ducked her head a bit, embarrassed, before looking back up. "Please don't take me home yet. I appreciate you helping me escape the school tonight, despite the cold. But I can't go home yet."

"Whatever you want, Ginny." He said and ran his thumb up and down her bicep twice before stopping and asking, "so where do you want to go?"

Ginny paused for a moment. Where could they go? Of course the first place she could think of was his flat, but she wasn't even sure if she'd get past the Apparation point. For all she knew it would spit her back out because he changed the password after that Neville debacle and never told her the new one. But the longer he stood there, waiting for her to tell him where they should go, the more she realized that it really was the only place she wanted to be. Even just for a moment to warm up before she would have to go home.

"I suppose your flat?" She cautiously offered. Harry nodded, emotionless, and his hand clamped down on her arm before they went spinning off.

Despite him not telling her of a different password she still closed her eyes tight as they landed in his living room. Harry let go of her arm and she heard him let out a little huff of tickled confusion.

"Ginny?"

"Didn't change the password, eh?" She asked, her eyes still closed. Harry let out a small laugh and she opened her eyes and smiled at him. He swished his wand a few times and the fireplace roared to life and the flat filled with warm light.

"No. I didn't change the password." He smiled and stood there looking at her for a moment before clearing his throat and offering, "drink?"

"Sure. Whatever you have." She nodded and started unbuttoning his coat. Harry moved into the kitchen, she hung the coat on a chair in the dining room, and started slowly clicking across his hardwood floors toward him.

"We don't have that much. I actually haven't been home yet. Looks like a butterbeer and some expired milk." He called out to her, and she paused at the entrance of the kitchen and leaned against the frame. His back to her, he was opening and closing all the cabinets, and then ran a hand across the back of his neck a few times. As he ran a hand through his hair, making it even messier, she felt her heart lurch into her throat and fill her with bittersweet agony.

How was it that he could fly out of nowhere and attack Neville, but they couldn't even look at each other? He turned around, the bottle of butterbeer in his hand and froze as he saw her. She couldn't stop it, she couldn't, she wouldn't; she would start talking until he stopped her. She just hoped it was after she was able to tell him everything. Looking him square in the eyes she took a breath and said,

"I'm so sorry, Harry."

He frowned and looked down at the floor, but he didn't leave, he didn't even move. She felt a flicker of hope enter her chest and took a shaky breath,

"I know you could never forgive me for what I did. But I want you to know how sorry I am. If I could do it all over again I wouldn't have been such a blind idiot. I wouldn't have been so scared." She urgently whispered.

"Scared of what?" He looked up at her with a piercing green stare and she sucked in a short breath through her teeth.

"Your love." She choked, feeling a threat of tears fill her chest. She tried to mentally slap herself; there could be no tears, she had to get through this, he had to know the truth, even if it didn't change anything. She owed him that.

"Why would my love be scary?" He set the bottle of butterbeer down on the counter with a clink, and crossed his arms, his forehead crinkled with confusion.

"Because it was so…" she stopped and took another breath to try and compose herself. "It felt so all-encompassing, like you loved me with everything you had, and it made me feel so small, Harry. Like I could never love you back enough, I could never match that kind of love." She felt the tears threaten in her nose and let out a low breath.

"I do. I don't know any other way to love someone." He quietly said. She sucked in a sniffle and blinked a few times to try and stop the tears.

"I know." She gave him a watery smile. "But I can't." It hurt as it came out, she felt her chest compress a bit.

"Why, Ginny?" He implored, taking a step toward her, it caused the first track of tears to slide down her face. She quickly wiped them away and took a big breath. Now was the time for the truth; the horrible, brutal, ugly truth that she had worked so hard to figure out with Jenna. He deserved the truth, she had been hoping for this moment, the single chance to at least tell him everything no matter what might come of it.

"I haven't been able to trust anyone with my full self since I was eleven." She slowly and carefully said. She waited for a moment, with nothing but the low mummer of the street traffic below filling the apartment, hoping he could read through the lines, but he still looked at her confused.

"Riddle?"

"Yes." She exhaled.

"What happened?" He swallowed hard, "Did he…_harm_ you…?"

"No." She quickly answered. His face dropped with relief. "But he controlled me. He controlled me completely, and once it was all over I never wanted to feel that way ever again. Feel like I couldn't have control over someone if I needed to."

"Ginny, I know what it feels like to be controlled by him." His arms dropped and he let out a long breath. "Why didn't you tell me this?"

"Because it's not the same." She felt a few more tears run down her face. He moved to retort and she quickly shot in, "Please understand. I know how horrible it was for you Harry. I know that he tormented you for all those years; that you had to fight against him controlling your thoughts. But you didn't black out for hours at a time. You didn't wake up on the floor covered in blood. You didn't have to wash all your clothes in a sink because you didn't know where the blood came from, and you couldn't let anyone see you. He was so charming at first, he was so understanding. But once I started to fight back, once I realized that something had gone horribly wrong…it was awful."

"I didn't know." He quietly said and shifted on his feet making the hardwood floors creak a little with his anxious movement.

"No one does. No one knows that I kept waking up covered in all sorts of dirt and grime and slime. I had no idea where I'd been. Hours of time were missing for me. My mind was completely blank. All I could remember was his furiously slanted writing telling me that I would do what he wanted. That I didn't have a choice anymore. That I belonged to him." She let out a charged breath, and wiped at her face again. Harry took a few more steps toward her, within arms reach now. "You were just seeing into his thoughts. Which is terrifying enough. I was controlled by him. And when he took me down into the Chamber, when I woke up and realized what had happened…"

She stopped for a moment, overcome with the memory she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, and took a shaky breath. She felt his warm calloused hand come down on her shoulder and looked back up at him.

"He told me I was going to die down there." She said in a small voice, "That no matter what might happen I wasn't going to make it out alive. He knew taking me down there would lure you down as well. He wanted to kill you. And there was nothing I could do; there was nothing I could say." Hot tears coursed down her cheeks unnoticed. "It was too late. I had given up. I had given him total control, and I was just waiting to die. I kept slipping in and out of consciousness. And when I woke up and you were there, alive." She stopped and curled in on herself a little, suppressing the sob that wanted to break through. "Oh Harry, I wished you weren't. Because I knew, knew completely in my heart, that we weren't going to make it out alive."

"But we did, Ginny." He rumbled deep in his chest and squeezed her bare shoulder.

"And you just shrugged it off like it was nothing new to you. Which I'm sure it wasn't at that point." She gave him a thick laugh. "But I was broken, Harry. I felt…dirty, used, evil. I hadn't been able to fight off a book? I couldn't even trust myself to be strong enough to fight off words?"

"That was not a book, it was a horcrux." He quickly shot in.

"I know that now," she sniffled. "But all those years ago, I thought it was me. And when I finally started to feel better, when I finally started to come back around I vowed that I'd never let anyone control me ever again. I'd never let anyone get close enough to control my thoughts."

"Are you saying…" he dropped off and let go of her shoulder. She looked up quickly, rubbing the tears off her face.

"I realized, when you broke up with me, that I was scared of you. Not in that horrible, unforgiveable way that I was with Riddle. But Harry…you're just so _alive_. So full of passion and emotions and love. And you're this brilliant light, I'm drawn to you, I can't control it. I have loved you for so long. I couldn't ignore you, it's like my brain and my body seek you out, circling around you constantly. When I finally did get to have you, finally get to touch and kiss you, I didn't expect you to be addicting, and stubborn. This summer, I feel like I got to know the real you, and you're uncontrollable. You attack everything in your life, and you never take no for an answer. I felt myself start to get lost in it, start to just allow you to take over and call all the shots. And I didn't care, I even liked it." She stopped and looked up at him.

He took a large breath and then grimaced as he flexed his hand. She looked down to see his hand completely swollen and reached for her wand to fix it, when his good hand came down on her arm,

"No, finish. What changed your mind?"

"Hogwarts. I got back to school and I remembered. I remembered the Chamber, and the diary, and Riddle. I remembered that last year I was so completely in control that people sought me out for advice. I was leading the Underground, and I was controlling Neville. And I remembered how much I missed that. So I just fell back into it. I bossed Neville around; I started commanding the attention of everyone around me. But then you'd visit me, and I'd be reminded of the summer and how I had lost control and it started this battle. When I was at Hogwarts I felt normal, when I was with you I felt off balanced. It was a completely new feeling, and I'll admit that I didn't like it. You had the upper hand, and that vow that I had told myself six years ago started to complicate things."

"So why not tell me? Why not boss me around, then?" He quickly asked.

"You can't be bossed." She gave him a sad smile. "You're so strong and commanding. And I could never do that to you. But Neville…I could do that to Neville. So I did, and continued to do it even when I knew it was hurting you because I felt like I was gaining ground again when it came to you. I could never outright tell you what to do, but…"

"You could be sneaky and hurtful?" He interjected, anger creeping into his voice.

"Yes. I didn't know why I was doing it until it was too late. But yes. I became the worst kind of person. And I'm sorry. You deserve better than that, Harry. You deserve better than me." She dropped her eyes to the floor and felt a tear rush down her face and drop off to splash against the floor.

"So you weren't ever in love with him?" He asked and she looked back up.

"No. Never. I was in love with what I could do to him. How I could control him. I've only ever loved you. I'll only ever love you." She held her breath, hearing her heart beating in her ears with the controlled panic she was forcing on herself.

"Do you still feel like you need to control me?"

"No." She stood completely still, even though a steady, agonizingly hopeful feeling was starting to warm her. "I have to keep working on it with Jenna but I've made my peace with it."

"I see." He nodded and broke eye contact, looking out into the dining room. She could make out nothing but small noises: the drip of the faucet, the crackle of the fire, the hum of the streetlamps below, and Harry's slow and deliberate breaths as they filled his chest. The panic started to mix with her hopeful anticipation and she quickly said,

"I don't expect anything. I just wanted you to know the truth. I wanted you to know that I'm sorry, and I that I don't expect your forgiveness. I fucked up, Harry. I fucked up and I'm sorry."

"I know." He sharply exhaled and looked back at her. "Thanks for the apology."

"You're welcome." She managed and swallowed the flood of tears. He was going to leave; they were over, for good. The relief of being able to tell him the truth was quickly filled with the devastation of knowing that he'd never take her back. But then he took a large breath.

"When I snuck into the castle for the Yule Ball I expected to see you with him." He gave her a long look. "Despite the letters Hermione had sent to me, despite how upset I know you've been, I still expected it. But you weren't. You kept getting dragged out onto the floor by all your friends, and you looked so _happy_," he took a shuddering breath, "you haven't been that happy around me for so long. Then when that girl came over to Seamus you tried to duck out. Neville wasn't anywhere to be seen. But then when you were finally about to leave he found you." Harry clenched his jaw.

"I'm sorry, I had been avoiding him all week. I knew he was desperate. But I thought I could just tell him off and be done with it." She responded, although her heart seemed to be giving off a lopsided beating. He had been there the whole time? He had been watching her? Why hadn't she seen him?

"You two walked off into that corridor and I thought, 'that's it, I guess this is what she wants'. But then Luna and Dean came charging out of the dance looking for you, and then Seamus dragging that girl of his, and Hermione and Ron seemed to just appear. They were all looking around for you. They were looking for you like some kind of fight was going to happen, like they were concerned for you. And so I took my cloak off and followed them." He stopped, dropped the hand on her shoulder, and shifted on his feet for a moment. "I was expecting the worst, Ginny."

"I had tried all week to get him to leave me alone. I told him that he better be bloody quick about it." Ginny softly added.

"Hermione noticed me first and let me through, and everyone moved out of the courtyard, and then I could hear the disillusion charms pop into place, and it was just the three of us. But your back was to me, and Neville was so focused he didn't see me."

"Harry..." Ginny bowed her head; her long curls falling over her shoulders, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Did you mean what you said?" Harry asked and she felt his fingers gently touch her hand by her side, then slide up to wrap around her wrist, and finally pull it toward him. He tugged her arm, closing the gap between them, her dress whispered across the floor as she took a single step toward him, and let her forehead touch his shoulder for a moment before she looked up into his face, holding eye contact and answered,

"Every word."

"You've always loved me?" His fingers trailed up her bare arm, a fleeting look of wonderment flashing across his face.

"Before I even knew what it meant. When I was ten, on the platform. I remembered seeing you and feeling something change within me." Ginny felt his fingers dance across her shoulder, and then his warm palm cupped it, and smoothed across to the base of her neck.

"You think I saved you?" His voice dropped to a whisper as his hand started to trail down her back, leaving a burning path.

"I know you have. And not just all those times before, not just the Chamber and the war, Harry. I'm so sorry that I haven't thanked you…but what you did for me. All those nights you watched over me, all those days that I ignored you, or sobbed around you…" her voice broke off as a flood of tears filled her and disobeyed her wishes as they quickly fell down her face. "You saved me."

"Ginny." He pulled up his other, swollen, hand and gently brushed her tears away.

"Maybe I've destroyed everything between us. Maybe you don't want me anymore, maybe we _are_ strangers," she stopped, and he shook his head but she forged on, "but I'd spend the rest of my life trying to gain your trust back if it meant that we could even just be friends. I need you in my life, Harry."

"Ginny," he gave her a small smile his free hand running down her curls. Her chest expanded with hope and she couldn't stop herself from continuing,

"I know that I'm a bit of a nutter, and that I am hot tempered and maybe I don't deserve you but what I said in that courtyard…it's all true, my world just isn't right without you in it. Please forgive…" She rambled on and Harry smiled big and interjected.

"Stop." He whispered and leaned down, closing the gap between them. It felt like fire. It was that first flash of white-hot heat when you light the hearth with the charm, instant and blazing. His lips tingled against her own as the soft kiss continued, and then he pulled back just slightly to take a breath. His fingers quickly traveled up her hair and he cupped the back of her head, his other hand slid down her bare back, she pulled him close, and he kissed her again. The fire roared within her, warming every nerve on her skin. She released her hands and started running her fingers through his messy hair. They broke apart and took a few labored breaths; she met his eyes and swallowed.

"I've missed you, Ginny." He murmured. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she nodded very slightly.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, knowing it was getting repetitive, but feeling like she would say it every hour of every day for the rest of her life if it could repair what was between them.

"Stop saying that." He quickly said and covered her lips with his own again. This time the kiss was deeper, longer, harder. She felt her lips start to plump, the blood rushing toward them as he pressed against her mouth. His body seemed to wrap around her, holding her incredibly close. The heat of his body started to seep through her dress, her fingers twisted up in his hair; she sucked in a quick breath and met his lips again.

"I love you," she mumbled against them, and then ran her hands down his back. His hips moved toward her own and she felt a jolt of excitement bolt through the lingering anxiety. She squirmed a bit in his arms trying to press herself closer, needing to feel connected to him, heat pooling deep in her hips as she felt him hardening against her belly. His kisses started to grow deeper; his tongue lightly touched her bottom lip, she opened her mouth in response, and let the tiny noise of want escape her throat. His hands started roaming over her body and the satin of her dress. Her body started to heat a bit, she was sucking in breaths in between his near bruising kisses. Her head spun, the room faded into the background, and then he pulled back, resting his forehead against her own. With heaving breaths she held still and tried to memorize the moment.

"I'd just like to state, for the record," Harry whispered. She shook with silent laughter and whispered back,

"Continue."

"I never broke up with you. I'd be an idiot to. And I've spent the last two weeks being harassed in French every waking hour of the day because of how I left our non-breaking-up fight." He ran both his hands down her back as he said this, and Ginny felt another jolt shoot down to her toes as his palms rested on the bare small of her back, his long fingers stretching dangerously close to her bottom.

"Oh really?" She smiled and tilted her head toward his lips again.

"Yes. Lots of _'you're a young, stupid idiot'_ as we were running, and then _'love is wasted on the young'_ as we were hiding in abandoned houses. And of course every night as we'd secure the perimeter she'd tell me, '_On n'aime que ce qu'on ne possède pas tout entier'_." Harry laughed and then touched his lips to her own. "She still won't tell me what that one means." She leaned into the kiss and then pulled back as he started to press harder against her lips.

"Remind me to send her a Christmas present." Ginny murmured against his lips and Harry turned his head a little to let out a long laugh. Ginny wrapped her arms around him as he laughed and rested her head against his chest. His steady heartbeat thudded in her ear and she smiled as she realized that she'd missed it. She'd missed everything about him. "Merlin, I missed you."

He started kissing the crown of her head and she sighed, melting into him. His hands continued to run up and down her back, and then her hips, and then they started to get lower and she pulled back a little and gave him a smirk.

"That dress…" he shook his head, grinning.

"You like it?" She asked and pulled away from his chest to give a small turn in front of him.

"That wasn't the word I was thinking of, but yes." He smirked and reached out to run his hands down her sides, molding them to her curves until they stopped at her hips again, his thumbs tracing lazy circles as far as he dared go. Her stomach fluttered, she felt herself start to build up a blush, and smiled.

"Shame I barely wore it."

"Indeed." Harry nodded and she felt one of his hands run up her back and close around the knot of the halter at the back of her neck. "Not even an hour."

"Oh really?" She arched an eyebrow up at him as his fingers tried to work on the knot, one handed.

"Shame, shame, shame." He grinned, with brilliant green eyes, and she didn't stop him as he continued to work on the knot. But the fireplace did.

It roared to life out in the dining room and Ron stopped as he came across them. Ginny bit her lip to stop the laugh; his suit was covered from head to toe in glitter. He crossed his arms, clenched his jaw, and then nodded toward her,

"You alright?"

"Yes. Thank you." Ginny answered and turned around so her back was against Harry. "Ron I…"

"Tired. I'm going to bed." He quickly interjected and clipped past them, his heavy footfalls echoing in the apartment, and then his door banged shut. Ginny hung her head and let out a long breath. Maybe everything was starting to be resolved between her and Harry, but it was going to be a harder sell for her family. Especially Ron. Harry rested his chin on her shoulder, his stubble rubbing against the skin, and they both exhaled at the same time.

"Do you think he'll come around?" She quietly asked.

"I hope so." Harry answered in a strained voice. Ron's door slammed open again, only to have the bathroom door slam shut next. The shower started to run and she pulled away from Harry and turned toward him.

"I should go. You know I can't stay. And I have to let my Mum know I'm home before she falls asleep."

"Of course. Will I see you tomorrow?" Harry leaned against the doorframe.

"Will you be here?" Ginny reached up and retied the bow of her dress.

"Yeah I'm," Harry dropped off for a moment, looking at his boots before looking back up and shrugging, "on Holiday for a while."

"Holiday?" Ginny put her hand on her hip.

"The trials are starting." Harry looked away from her but didn't continue.

"And?" She took a step toward him.

"I have to testify against…everyone." He shifted on his feet, and then moved into the kitchen to grab the butterbeer.

"Oh." Ginny frowned. "I suppose that's about right."

"Can't really have your star witness," Harry put the bottle between his knees and yanked the cork out with his good hand, throwing it at the sink, "risking his life every day when you need him to justify giving someone a lifetime sentence in Azkaban."

"Harry," Ginny moved to touch him when the door to the bathroom opened, shower still running, and Ron stalked out in a towel.

"Have you talked to Mum yet?" He demanded, dripping water all over the floor.

"I'm leaving. Right now." Ginny tried to pacify, keeping her voice neutral. Ron rolled his eyes and left for the shower again. She turned to Harry and he nodded, setting the butterbeer down on the counter. "I should go."

"Tomorrow?" He moved with her toward the fireplace.

"I promise." She smiled and reached up to kiss him. Lavender, sweat, and the smell of snow filled her senses, and as she pressed tighter against him he gently pressed his lips against her own. It was sweet, and short, and she pulled back and rested her head on his shoulder, and while her heart swelled with contentment her brain fluttered with the realization of all that lay before them. "Tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Ginny." He ran a last hand through her hair and she grabbed a handful of Floo powder and threw it at the fire.

"Goodnight, Harry."

She stepped into the green flames, hiked up her dress, and they locked happy but anxious eyes for a moment before she shouted out her home and went shooting through the fireplace.

* * *

Author's Notes:  
This chapter was really fun to write, so I hope everyone enjoyed it as much as I did. As always a wonderful, warm, thank you to all the 'fans' and your reviews. They are like oxygen to me! lol

TOW - It was almost too much fun right? Many, many thanks. You know you're a rock star! :p

And finally a shameless plug for another story I wrote. Should you find yourself cursing my name between now and the next chapter, why don't you hop on over to my Author page and check out After School Special. It's a fun, fluffy, smutty little story I wrote for a friend and while it is *gasp* Twilight, I still think it might make you reconsider the LEVEL of decay you let your veggies get to, when you do start to throw them. LOL

Thanks everyone! :)


	30. Chapter 30

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 30~

_and you never would have thought in the end_

_how amazing it feels just to live again_

_it's a feeling that you cannot miss_

_it burns a hole through everyone that feels it_

_Blue and Yellow by The Used_

* * *

As soon as she landed, she knew she had made a mistake. She should have just stayed at the flat. Her heels slid on the soot, and with very little grace she shot out a hand to steady herself as a cloud of ash blew up into her face. Coughing and gasping she stumbled from the hearth and tensed in preparation for the coming storm she knew her Mum would rain down upon her. Instead, as the ash settled and her coughing subsided she heard the rustle of a paper and her father's light chuckle,

"Evening love."

"Dad?" She coughed and then whipped out her wand to clear all the soot from herself. She turned towards his chair and took him in. Paper in hand, tea levitating next to him, clad in his work clothes despite the very late hour. "Did you just get home?"

"Yes, the Ministry has been keeping me quite late these days. What brings _you_ here?" Arthur set his paper down and grabbed his floating cup to take a long sip of tea, waiting, his eyes sparkling. Ginny swallowed, her throat dry from all the ash and anxiety. She would take her Mum's yelling over her father's twinkle any day.

There had been many instances in her childhood where her father's 'dreaded twinkle' would appear. Usually it involved the twins and Ron, and quite frequently it resulted in satisfying looks of actual terror in their eyes. She, of course, had never been on the receiving end of the 'dreaded twinkle', usually because she had plenty of brothers to pin her crimes on. But often enough she would see her Mum, flushed and twittering, complaining to her Dad about her brothers' latest escapades that undoubtedly had warranted extra punishment. It was in that moment a twinkle would form in his eyes, he would look at her, smile, and then go into the living room to deal with the boys.

It seemed to be their little inside joke, their secret. His acknowledgment that she was good and would never warrant a 'dreaded twinkle' was what had kept their secret going for so long. Until tonight. She'd never learned what had elicited such terror in her brothers – it had to be nightmare educing to scare the twins. She shifted on her heels again.

"Ginevra, what brings you here?" He asked again.

"Ahh…" she stalled.

"And in that beautiful but very revealing dress." He continued.

"Right, that." Ginny started frantically trying to gauge a strategy.

"With no trunk. So I can only assume that someone else will be bringing your things back?" He leaned forward and set his tea down on the coffee table.

"Hermione." Ginny supplied. So far all she had been able to come up with to combat his coming attack was to say as few words as possible.

"I'm quite positive that Minerva would not let you just wander off the grounds without a good reason, especially given your high profile as of late. Yes, I think someone else must have been involved with this blessed event of you in our living room a day early." Her father raised an eyebrow at her, a smile playing on his lips, and Ginny crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head, smirking. All the anxiety fled from her. Barely containing her laugh she sassed,

"What do you want to know?"

"Is it wrong for a father to want to bond with his only daughter?" He stood up from his chair, his joints popping with age and scooted across the rug toward her. "I'm glad you're home Ginny."

"I might just stay forever." She sighed, her shoulders slumping. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead and then grabbed her upper arm.

"No. You won't. In fact-I'd be surprised if you were still here in the morning." He chuckled and turned to banish his tea.

"Dad!" She yelled out, giving him an incredulous look. "I'm not some kind of flighty hotel guest you know! This is my home."

"And it always will be my dear, but a home is an ever-shifting kind of place. I wouldn't be surprised if you felt more at home somewhere in particular very soon; despite the constant annoyance of your brother." He laughed and gave her arm a pat, moving around her to make his way towards the stairs.

She had a flash of Harry searching through the cupboards, looking for sustenance for her and she felt her heart swell a bit with happiness. But when she threw a quick look around the room, the building emotional attachment she was growing for Harry's flat paled in comparison to the comforting feeling of being grounded and safe that her home would always have for her.

"What makes you think I would change my opinion so easily…especially after everything that's happened?" She asked in the quiet of the living room. Her father smiled, pulled his robes tighter around himself and ran a hand through his graying hair before replying,

"Sweetheart, I know you. And you will want to be where your heart is. And your heart belongs to him." He put a heavy hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Finally. Finally someone who understood, someone that she didn't have to beat this idea into, someone she didn't have to fight about it with. The feeling of solidarity swelled so quickly that it filled her eyes with tears.

"Dad," she sniffled, wrapping her arms around him in a very tight hug. He immediately wrapped her up in his arms as well, and she melted into the embrace.

"Does he make you happy?" He seriously asked squeezing her a little bit harder.

"Yes." She quickly responded, rubbing one side of her face against his robes. He pulled back and leveled his blue eyes onto her, serious and expectant,

"Does he love you?"

"Yes. Too much I think." She confessed. He nodded and let her go.

"Then that's all I can ask for. I knew this day would come Ginevra. I knew one day your heart would love more than just me. Father's fear this day, the day your daughter becomes a woman." He quietly dropped off. His confession was so unexpected she felt tears roll down her face, hot and fast.

"But I'll always love you first, and the most." She wiped at her face, and he chuckled and shook his head.

"One day, soon, you'll realize that just isn't entirely true. You will always have loved me first. But it won't always be the most." He gave her a very sad smile, his eyes shining and moved past her on his way toward the stairs.

"I really don't want to believe that." She chased after him. She felt hysterical, mournful tears build within her. Something was changing between her and her father, something that would create a barrier between them where there had never been one before. She was very positive that she did not like it.

"Oh love," he ran a hand down the length of her hair. "You'll see, and then you'll understand."

"I…" Ginny stopped, confused and upset, tired and scattered with thoughts and emotions, she didn't know what to say. How do you respond to something like that? She looked up at her Father unable to hide the hurt she was feeling as he ran his hand down her hair again.

"Don't be upset Gin-bug." He smiled and took the first step, "just be prepared."

"Prepared for what?" She straightened up, now adding concerned to the gauntlet of emotions she was experiencing tonight.

"I didn't spend all these years badgering into your brothers the importance of protecting their sister for nothing." He laughed. She blanched, sucked in a short breath, and then ran her hands down her face as she grumbled,

"Merlin, I really wish they wouldn't. You don't think you could call them off for me?"

"I can't give you an unfair advantage, can I? Then there wouldn't be nearly as entertaining a show!" He laughed, his eyes sparkling again.

"Bullocks." Ginny frowned and propped herself up against the wall. Her father leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I love you Ginevra."

"I love you too Dad." She sighed and watched him slowly make his way up the darkened stairwell. For a long moment she just stood there: her feet aching and blistering from the heels, her skin covered in goosebumps to the point of pain, and her mind buzzing with too much information to process.

The fireplace dropped down into embers leaving the house dark and quiet and cold. She slid down the wall to sit on the first step, the silk of her dress rubbing against her skin, and immediately all she could think of was Harry. Harry untying the knot on her dress, how it felt as he was starting to slowly undress her, how frantically they had been kissing before that, how warm his hands were, how warm his flat was, how intoxicating it had felt when he touched her.

She looked out into the darkness and a feeling of alienation swept over her. The house was empty of her siblings, empty of its usual mirth and warmth. Her Mum wasn't even keeping fireplaces going all night anymore. She knew she would always belong here, but at that exact moment she felt like she shouldn't be there. The house wasn't ready for her, or maybe she just wasn't ready to be back in the house yet. She pushed the thought deep into her brain. Her father had all but told her he was letting her go, and that was a frightening and uncomfortable thought to have. She didn't want to digest that yet, pick it apart, and see everything he was trying to tell her.

Shivering hard enough to make her teeth chatter, she made her choice. She wasn't ready for all her house entailed, perhaps it would just be better if she came back tomorrow; when the house would be warm, and comforting, and loving, and excited to see her. Maybe she should just come back to all that tomorrow, because that's everything that Harry's flat was right now. She stood, looked up the stairs for a moment, and then with a turn and a pop she was gone again.

For a very small split second when she landed in the living room, she saw Harry completely relaxed in his own element. He was sitting on the couch; his feet kicked up onto the coffee table, his muddy boots getting newspapers from the day before filthy, flexing and clenching his newly healed fist, as he stared vacantly at the wall in front of him. The flat was still full of light and fire, deliciously warm, and entirely comforting. And then, within that next second, his scary quick reflexes kicked into place and his head snapped to her as his wand immediately slapped into his palm from its place on the coffee table.

Ginny held perfectly still and watched as his face melted from alerted concern to shock and awe.

"Ginny, what are you doing here?" He whispered and stood, quickly checking behind his back at Ron's closed door.

"I…" she started and then stopped. She looked at Ron's door and immediately felt uneasy. Maybe she should have just casted warming spells all over the place and dealt with the cold. But then his hands smoothed down the chilled skin of her arms and she smiled.

"Come with me." He whispered again and wrapped his arm around her waist to start tugging her toward his room. She walked on her tip-toes so her heels wouldn't make contact with the floor and give them away, and after Harry quietly shut the door, he waved his wand and mumbled several different things before she heard a pop followed by a sucking sound as he turned to her.

"What did you do?" She whispered.

"Sealed the door." He said in a normal voice and grinned. "The things I've learned…" he trailed off as his eyes took her in.

"Highly improper," she chastised him, but then licked her lips. "You're still good I hope?" She smiled and felt it all the way down into her toes. They'd had this particular conversation once before, and it felt like a lifetime ago. Harry's eyes lit up and he closed the space between them quickly before very nearly searing her to the floor with his stare as he said,

"I'm as good as you want me to be."

And in that moment she knew he remembered. Remembered that night he had kidnapped her from Hogwarts. Remembered how close they had come to crossing the final physical limitation on their relationship. Remembered exactly how her lips and fingers had touched almost every single part of him. And in that moment she flushed and bit her lip because she remembered. Remembered his hands, his breath, his teeth, his mouth, all over her. The jolt that shot off deep in her stomach spread down to her hips and she sucked in a deep breath, never breaking eye contact with him. Because in that moment she felt that final hesitation, that final barrier between them, snap free in her mind, and the unstoppable lust that filled her made her heart start pounding wildly.

"Maybe not so good this time." She heaved, and with a tiny widening of his eyes he closed the space between them. She had anticipated him grabbing her, kissing her, winding her hair around his fingers but instead he stayed incredibly close, leveled his eyes with hers, and whispered into her ear,

"Just tell me when to stop, Ginny."

She nodded, but she knew she wasn't going to stop him this time. His eyes focused only on her lips and then they were kissing again. His body heat started to warm her, and her breathing started to pick up. She opened her mouth and could not stop the tiny noise of want from escaping when their tongues touched as he continued to gently explore her. His hands moved across her body, up and down her sides, across her back, against the side of her breasts.

Her fingers started to roam with their own volition. They made a path across his back and then up under his shirt. He broke off their kiss at that moment and immediately started kissing her jaw, moving his way down. Her fingers tugged at his belt, teased the edge of his pants, roamed under the band of his underwear as they moved from the small of his back toward the front. His hand ran up from her ribs and cupped her breast in his hand as his teeth scratched against her neck.

"Harry." She breathed, flushing instantly. He moved back up to her mouth, covering it with his own, their swollen lips sliding across each other. She tugged his pants toward her, feeling their hips touch as his tongue slid into her mouth again. Lust, heady and immediate, exploded in her mind and she pushed her fingers further down his pants, feeling his hip bone brush across her outstretched fingers. Harry groaned into her mouth and pulled her up against him. She could feel how aroused he was, and her own body shuddered with want. Just when she felt like she needed to rip his shirt off he quickly broke away.

Heaving and slightly put out, she looked up only to see him smiling. His lips were a deep red, his glasses were slightly lopsided on his face, and the smile slowly moved into a look of concentration as one hand brushed all her hair to one side. The other palm cupped her shoulder, and turned her back to him. When she thought about turning around to see what he was doing, she felt his lips brush across the base of her neck, and took a quick breath as her knees wobbled on her.

He kissed across to her right shoulder, and then kissed his way back toward her left. An arm encircled her waist, pulling her close to him, and then he freed the knot from the back of her dress one handed. The fabric slid slowly and silently off of her chest to drop down and lay over the arm that was around her waist. He started to pull his arm away, the fabric hanging on the swell of her hips, and she turned back around toward him.

For a moment, exposed to him, she felt self conscious. But the carnal look on his face made her feel otherwise. She ran her palms up his chest, pushing his shirt up, and without hesitation he quickly pulled it off and tossed it behind him. Her fingers raked back downward to his stomach before dropping to his belt and undoing the buckle as she looked up into his face. Her fingers started working on his button, quickly unsnapping it, and she pulled his zipper down, well aware of the white-hot length pushing against the fabric. He closed his eyes for a moment, a low groan escaping the back of his throat, as she took her hands away. His pants just hanging on his hips, he opened his eyes again now dark, dark green with arousal and she pushed her dress down over her hips, it hit the floor only seconds before his pants and boxers. She licked her lips again and his hands reached out and ran across her hips, his fingers sneaking under the lacy top band of her panties. She felt a pressure build between her hips, that familiar tickle of arousal starting to slowly build deep within her.

"Gorgeous." He whispered as he looked her up and down, she felt a blush form and then a shiver. "Cold?"

"A little." She looked back at the bed, the large sea of gray was entirely too enticing not to get into. Harry reached around her and pulled the sheets back, carelessly tossing his glasses at the nightstand. She slid across them, then under them, Harry right after her. Without wasting any time she rolled to her side, slid a leg over his own, feeling his arousal touch her thigh as she moved across his lap. Harry was sitting slightly, propped up against his pillows, and she sat down on his lap, feeling him hot and hard against the rapidly heating area between her legs.

She actually saw his eyes roll to the back of his head before he closed them and groaned,

"Jesus, Ginny."

She moved a little bit on his lap to better situate herself and his hands snapped to her hips, pushing her down onto him and fixing her to the spot. She grinned a bit and he opened his eyes and licked his lips.

"That feels amazing." He murmured and started moving her hips in a tiny circle in his lap. She shifted a tiny bit with her circling and his erection started rubbing against something on her that made her breath come out through her teeth as a bolt of heat shot up through from her panties toward her chest. She felt her thighs clench around him, holding him exactly in that spot, as her eyes slid shut, and then he stopped.

"Don't stop," she breathed as her eyes snapped open. He grinned and started moving her hips again. She kept feeling zaps of pleasure mixing with the tingle of arousal and felt something build in her chest, some kind of anticipation. While she kept the cyclical rhythm going, he slowly moved his hands up from her hips towards her breasts, and when at last he finally held them, all thoughts emptied her mind, instead to be filled with every detail of the moment.

His hands on her, her now damp panties grinding against his lap, how hot and hard he was between her legs, how the cool air of the room was mixing with the warm sheets, the sound of the snow building outside the window, and the quick pants of breath they were both sharing. And his groaning, oh his groaning. It was quite possibly the sexiest thing she had ever heard, deep and guttural in his throat, they started to build a bit and she felt her body swim with some kind of frantic pleasure as each circle brought another bolt from her center and a swimming fire of tingling, tickling emotions.

"Ginny," Harry breathed, his hands starting to massage her breasts a little harder, his eyes closed.

"Harry," she responded, pressing down a little harder in his lap.

"Oh God," he groaned. "You have to stop. Stop." He pleaded.

"Stop?" She huffed as another jolt pumped through her. Harry groaned again and then his hands clamped down on her hips, stopping the circling.

"I'm begging you. I'm going to…" he trailed off for a moment not meeting her eyes. "I don't think I can hold on much…longer."

"Oh." She pushed herself up a bit, relieving some of the pressure on his lap and met eyes with him. "What should I –?" She broke off, and went to cover her breasts.

"Lie down," Harry smiled at her and she lay back down on the bed. As soon as her head touched the bed his mouth was on her. First he kissed and teased her neck, and then made eye contact before moving down. With one arm propping him up, the other one teased her with a feather light touch as his lips kissed the swelling of her breast. She felt her body respond to his touch, squirming to have his fingers on her, his mouth closed around her nipple teasing it with his tongue and her eyes rolled to the back of her head this time. Her center clenched, her chest arched toward him, and his free hand he eased her back down onto the bed, keeping his mouth on her. His fingers roamed down until they found her panties again and he started to tug them down. She squirmed with him, trying to help, but failing miserably, her mind hazy, whirling with desire.

"Harry," she huffed as his other hand roamed back up to grab her other breast, squeezing a handful as his tongue worked her over. He scooted closer and she felt him, still hard and warm against her thigh. Her center shuddered with want and she twisted her hips a bit on the bed. Harry lifted his head from her chest as he eased his hand down her stomach stopping at the place between her legs that was damp and throbbing. He looked at her, asking permission, for what she wasn't quite sure, but she nodded and closed her eyes, not caring at this point. It was probably going to be fantastic – everything else he'd done so far had been.

Oh sweet Merlin.

"Oohh," she groaned as she felt a finger slip inside her. Her center started to clamp down around him, his mouth found her breast again, his finger started to slide in and out, and everything started to fade around her. Her stomach clenched, the tingling deep inside her started to build and build and build. She started squirming against him, one of her hands grabbed up the duvet into a fist, her body started arching, pressing down harder on his finger. It was some kind of sweet agony, her body building and building towards an explosion. She felt so wet down by his hand, Harry was practically humming against her skin, her mind cleared for a split second, everything turned to white, her breath caught in her throat, she felt him slip another finger in, pumping in and out of her and something snapped in her chest.

"Harry," she cried, it came whooshing out of her chest with all her breath as she gasped for air. Her center clenching down on his fingers as they continued to pump into her, her body started shaking, convulsing on the bed, she felt him grin against her breast, and then when she thought she couldn't take any more it started to subside. She slid back down onto the sheets, his fingers slowly slid out of her and she let out a little whimper.

"That was bloody amazing." Harry whispered, his voice slightly in awe. She cracked open her eyes to look at him.

"Wow." She croaked and then closed her eyes, her body still thrumming with tingles and blood.

"Really?" he grinned madly at her.

"You have no idea." She laughed a bit. Harry laughed, and then pressed his face against her breast, rubbing his scruffy five o'clock shadow on it. "That was…crazy." She melted into the bed. "Amazingly crazy." She rolled toward him and felt his hardness press against her stomach.

"Wonderful." He smiled at her, disregarding his obvious need. At first she felt the urge to weep at his selflessness, surely something that life altering should be something shared, but she couldn't quite figure out why she wanted to cry, it's seemed like the exact opposite of what she was feeling. She pushed the thought away, and decided that she wanted – no needed – to make him feel the same way. She'd made him come before, that Hogsmeade night. She'd touched and teased him until he'd grabbed her hand and showed her exactly how she needed to touch it. He had climaxed quickly after that. It had been empowering and slightly amazing to her then, so she was pretty sure she knew exactly how he was feeling now. She ran her hand down his chest until she wrapped it around his length. Harry's smile fell off his face as he closed his eyes and let out a small noise in the back of his throat.

"Harry?" She asked as she moved her hand up and down his length, just like he'd shown her. "Is this what you want?"

"I want whatever you want, Ginny." He groaned. She continued stroking him and felt her center let out a bolt of excitement of another build up and release. She felt him throb in her hand as blood rushed to the hardness. Even as she felt her eyes widen in surprise at just how hard and how big he looked she knew, deep within her still wet and tingling center that she was going to want more. She'd decided to cross this final line; there was no turning back now.

"What if I want more?" She whispered, and moved slightly away so she could rub him harder.

"Whatever you want." He panted and then seemed to put forth a large effort to open his eyes. "What do you want?"

She looked away blushing, stopping her hand.

Taking a deep breath she met his eyes and whispered, "You. All of you."

"I'm yours," Harry calmly said, but his eyes were very wide, and very green. It was that emerald green that she always equated with joy, but his eyes were so dilated with lust that you could barely tell. He rolled toward her; she felt another bolt of desire pulse as his now deep voice rasped, "We'll take it slow."

"Okay." She nodded. He paused, looked long at her, and then leaned forward to whisper,

"I love you."

He kissed her, pressing his lips against hers for a long moment. She kissed him back, wrapping her hands around the back of his neck. When she pulled away she whispered back,

"I love you too."

He smiled, shifted his hips a little, and then she felt something much larger than a finger press against her opening, and with the aid of how wet she was, slowly start to slide into her. She gasped, held her breath, nodding for him to continue, as he fixed his wide eyes to her face, and flinched as he pushed in deeper and she felt a pain in her center. He stopped for a moment, and then pushed in deeper still, filling her completely, and then she felt him start to pull back out.

"Wait." She called out, pulling his head down to her shoulder. Harry started breathing fast and heavy, but stayed completely still. It was the strangest feeling she'd ever had. There was pain, but she had expected pain. There was incredible desire. And then there was also this satisfaction of having her throbbing, aching center finally filled with something to pulse and clench against. She felt herself seize around him, and Harry let out a groan against her shoulder. As her body grew used to the sensation the pain lessened a bit. Harry continued to stay incredibly still, his breathing heavy.

"Okay," she said and nodded, and Harry seemed to suck in a large breath and then slowly slid back out of her. It was a kind of tearing feeling, and then he pushed in again, letting out a guttural grunt as he did. This time wasn't as bad, still some pain, but when he pulled out and pushed in for the third time, he shifted as he filled her back up and his length hit something within her that caused a jolt of desire to fill her and swim across her center. Harry started to move a little faster, grinding his hips back and forth across her own, his chest pressing against her breasts, his head still trapped to her shoulder as she pinned him there.

She let his head go and his lips immediately found her collarbones, her jaw, her neck, her ear, her hair. His lips brushed against anything they could find as he pumped in and out of her. His breathing started to catch a bit in his throat. She felt him grow even bigger inside her and let out a tiny noise of discomfort.

"Are you okay?" He whispered setting his forehead against hers. As their eyes locked he stopped for a moment, and she missed the movement.

"Yes." She whispered back and he started up again, growing larger still as his eyes closed, their foreheads still touching. She ran her hands up and down his back; she felt his muscles start to harden, his breath coming out fast and quick. Harry started to moan a bit, his head dropped to her shoulder as he pumped quickly for a moment and then seemed to remember what he was doing and slowed down again, but that didn't stop his building arousal.

"Ginny, Ginny I'm going to…" he groaned against her shoulder and then looked at her. He thrust into her again and hit that one spot that made her close her own eyes with desire.

"Keep going, and keep hitting that spot." She murmured.

He slid into her again and again, hitting some kind of magical place within her that was making her quickly build toward another release, and then she felt him get incredibly hard inside of her. When he hit the spot the fourth time he let out a groan and then grabbed her close against him, pressing her chest close to his, as he shuddered and shook against her, his length buried deep in her.

"Ginny, Ginny, Ginny." He cried out against her shoulder and pressed into her a few more times before coming to a complete stop. He fell against her, draping his body weight on top of her as hitched breaths came out of his chest, his heart thumping so hard she could feel it against her own skin. He stayed like that for a moment, before he shook his head and pushed himself up and looked at her, "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

"A little bit, but that's supposed to happen, right?"

"I think so." He scrunched his eyebrows together and then pressed a kiss to her lips. He pulled back and whispered against them, "I love you."

"I love you too." She smiled against his mouth and ran a hand through his hair. Harry propped himself up better and then slowly pulled out of her. She felt wet and swollen, and her center immediately missed the fullness he had given her. He pulled the covers over them and rolled off of her so that they were lying down face to face under the sea of gray.

"Are you sure you're okay? Is there anything I can do?"

"Was it any good? Was I alright?"

They both asked at the same time, and then laughed. He reached a hand over and tucked some hair behind her ear.

"You were amazing. Better than amazing, I don't think there's a word." He smiled at her, a happy, sleepy smile. "Was I any good?"

"Of course." She blushed hard and looked away from the intensity of his eyes. "I think you were onto something there for a second, I was starting to feel an explosion building again." Ginny grinned as she turned back to face him.

He chuckled softly, "Really? Alright, well I guess we'll just have to try again." He beamed and then quickly looked away, shy for a moment. "Right?"

"Absolutely." Ginny smiled and rolled around to end up snuggled against his chest. His arms wrapped around her, his face buried in her hair, and she felt the edge of sleep form at the back of her mind.

"I really do love you, Ginny." Harry whispered against her ear. "More than I think I can bear sometimes."

"I wonder if there is a word that's stronger than love." Ginny yawned. "Because that's what I feel for you. Too much, there's just too much."

"We'll sleep on it," Harry sighed. He nuzzled her hair again, and fell quiet. She snuggled deeper, almost burrowing into him and hiding in the covers. Harry let out a little laugh against her shoulder. "How could you possibly be cold right now?"

"I'm naked." She whispered matter-of-factly and wiggled again as Harry laughed out loud.

"I noticed." Harry rumbled against her back, "Lucky me."

It was her turn to laugh just a little, and then the quite of the room, the warmth of his body, the steady beating of his heart, a delicious feeling of fulfillment enveloped her, and with that they both fell asleep.

* * *

_She could taste the saltwater before she even realized where she was._

_She sat down on the multicolored rock beach and looked out at the breakers. Every two minutes another set would roll in, crashing into frothing white, misting up into the air. It was sunset. Pink and purple dusted the sky against grey and white clouds, the sun dipping into the water as a giant orange ball. There was barely any wind, her dress spread all around her on the rocks, and she wiggled her toes as they were kissed by the mist. She felt a hand run down her left arm, and then rest on top of her hand. The pressure on top of her hand made her realize she was wearing a ring, on that all too important finger._

_Looking back out at the ocean she watched as the sun sank below the waves, a flash of green dancing in its place before the beach started to fill with twilight._

"_Ready?" He asked and pushed up from the rocks, offering out his own ringed left hand. She looked up into Harry's face. He had a brilliant smile, his hair whipped around in the small wind, flying into his dark green eyes. She glanced at the hand again, a simple silver band. She looked down at her own but couldn't see the ring clearly, no matter how hard she focused._

"_I'm not going to force you Ginny." He laughed and crossed his arms over his grey jacketed chest. He looked out at the ocean for a moment and then started walking down the beach, without her. A panic filled her chest, the ocean started to churn, the waves growing larger and angrier. Annoyance replaced the panic and she stood up, her dress floating around her and loudly said,_

"_Wait."_

_The whole scene froze. The waves were caught just before crashing, the wind trapped her dress in a billowing motion, the sky remained just slightly pink, and then Harry turned around. The only thing moving in her dream he came back toward her, to stand right next to her, and leaned forward to whisper in her ear,_

"_That's all you ever had to say."_

_The beach broke apart into blinding white light, and she sucked in a startled breath before closing her eyes. Everything faded slowly into black, and stayed that way._

_

* * *

_

Her eye cracked open at the light spilling across the room and hitting her directly in the face. Opening her eye wider she took in the gray sheets and felt her other eye crack open. As she shifted her body, everything snapped into alert focus. She was naked, in Harry's bed, sore, and she could feel the warmth of him in the bed next to her. So that hadn't been some crazy, wonderful, incredibly realistic dream.

She looked up and was greeted with a very wide smile. She felt her own smile spread across her face, sleepy and happy.

"Good Morning." He lowly said.

"Morning." She grinned and felt her cheeks start to blush. She could not count the times she had fantasized about this exact moment.

Her wild pubescent fantasies had always made the intimate parts a bit hazy, but now she didn't have to guess, and that made this particular greeting all the more wonderful. Seeing him in the bed next to her was much better than anything she had thought up before. He kept roaming his eyes over her duvet-covered body and smiling. She took him in herself, hair hanging in wet twisted clumps across his head, smelling absolutely wonderful, and seeming rather alert.

"How long have you been up?" She took a deep breath and yawned.

"Not that long." He shrugged a shoulder. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Okay, maybe I've been watching you sleep."

She couldn't stop the shake of laughter that tried to overtake her then as she asked, "That interesting, huh?"

"Something like that." He frowned, but his eyes were bottle green and shining, crinkled at the corners as if he was holding back a laugh himself.

"Well the light woke me up," she pointed at the blinds. "Otherwise I think I would have slept forever."

"You can go back to sleep. It seemed like you were enjoying your dream." He slid down the bed until they were eye to eye. She looked him over and realized he was just in some boxers and an undershirt and pressed her lips together. She wanted to crawl across the bed, snuggle up against his body, and indeed go back to a place where her horrible Brighton Beach nightmare would never taunt her again. But as she went to move she remembered she was naked. Right. Maybe she should just stay. She felt silly, obviously he'd seen all of her now, but the idea of being so exposed made her pull the covers up higher to her neck. He gave her a confused look and she delicately asked,

"So do you have any clothes I can borrow?"

"Right, you're ahhh…" he trailed off and grinned, a flush of red coloring his cheeks. It made her feel a tiny bit better, as least she wasn't the only one feeling slightly awkward. Harry moved out from the bed and pulled some items out of his dresser and stopped right at the edge of the bed with a pair of pinstriped blue and gray pajama bottoms and a blood red jumper.

"Thanks." She snuck out a hand from under the covers and took them.

"Sorry I haven't been here in quite a while. I haven't done laundry." He looked away as he said this, but when she released the comforter to slide on the jumper she caught his eyes snap back to her and she grinned. They locked eyes for a long moment, and she let her gaze wander, drinking in what had been obscured by shadows and out of control lust the night before. As her eyes traveled lower and lower she unconsciously shifted her hips, and then sucked a quick breath of air between her teeth. That had been quite uncomfortable, and Harry's face flashed panic,

"What? Are you okay?"

"Just sore." She exhaled and refused to make eye contact. Ginny could feel the blush form against her chest under the jumper, she was sure she'd be the same color within minutes.

"Is there anything I can do?" He shifted from foot to foot in front of her and she shook her head and lifted the covers to slide the pajama bottoms on.

"Well," she looked up at him and threw the covers off, now completely swathed in clothing. "Maybe a pain potion?"

"I have plenty of those." Harry laughed and shuffled toward the bathroom. Her feet hit the cold floor and she stood to stretch. She was swimming in his clothes, and as if on cue her stomach rumbled loudly in his room. She looked down at it with confusion. She hadn't taken a potion yet, so she must be actually hungry. That was new. With a shrug she padded out into the kitchen to see what she could scavenge.

In her first pass through the cabinets she came across a can of beans, some moldy bread, and a package of pasta. That wasn't going to do. She moved toward lower cabinets, her stomach growing loudly again and she heard Harry laugh behind her and looked over her shoulder.

"There's nothing down there, I've already checked. I thought maybe we could just go grab some breakfast." He dangled the pain potion between his fingers and smiled at her. He was dressed now, his hair still a wet mess, barefoot, and looking entirely too handsome. Ginny stood up and moved towards him, grabbing the pain potion out from between his fingers.

"In case you haven't noticed, the only articles of clothing I have are a very revealing evening dress, and your hand me downs." She gave a little spin in front of him.

"I actually like your outfit. I could get used to you in my clothes." Harry arched an eyebrow at her and she shook her head in a dismissive sort of way and gulped the pain potion down.

"So what are you big plans then? I don't even have proper shoes." She tossed the vial toward the sink and it clinked around in the porcelain before settling.

"You are a witch, right?" He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her expectantly.

"Right, make some shoes. Too bad Hermione's not here, she's much better at Transfiguration than me. I'm more of a Charms girl." Ginny smirked and Harry closed the few steps between them and squeezed her against him.

"I was thinking we could…" he started and then both of their attention was snapped toward the fireplace as it roared to life. "Hermione."

Sure enough their friend stepped out of the green flames. She was still covered in soot, spreading it all across the hardwood floor, as she scrambled toward them. Her hair was half straight and half its usual bushy curls, but all pulled back into a low ponytail. Ginny saw some remaining sparkles from her dress catching across her face and hairline as she passed under the lights in the dining room towards them.

"Ginny!" Hermione looked at the two of them and then really looked at Ginny, Harry still draped over her. "Oh no."

"Hello Hermione, it's good to see you too. Yes, my mission was successful. That was quite a Yule ball." Harry deadpanned as he wrapped his arm protectively around her. She enjoyed the extra support but she was way ahead of him. Hermione being here so early was not a good sign. Ginny forwent all the usual questions and cut right to it,

"How much time?"

"None." Hermione looked at the fireplace warily. "You could have at least transfigured some pajama's Ginny. Really, wearing his clothes." She rolled her eyes and then bit her lip.

"I just got up." Ginny growled. Hermione ripped the hair band out of her hair and passed it over to Ginny.

"Put your hair up, it's very obvious." Hermione took a few steps away from them and fixed her worried brown eyes onto Harry, who had fallen quite silent during their exchange. His arms were still holding her tight, but she could feel his heart starting to beat hard against his ribs.

Ginny felt a large sense of foreboding and then two horrible things happened at once. The fireplace roared to life for a second time that morning, and Ron's door swung open with conviction. Hermione stepped back against the counter, putting space between them and Ginny grabbed onto Harry's arm around her waist, squeezing for a moment before looking toward the fireplace first.

Her Mum, still clad in her housecoat, stepped purposefully into the dining room and swept her furious eyes around until they landed on the three of them. Well actually four, because she could hear Ron's low grumblings behind her. Her Mum's eyes looked her up and down, taking in Harry's clothes, her mussed hair, her day old make up, her bare feet, and finally stopping at the connection of Harry's arm and her hands. Molly Weasley rose to her full height, straightened her shoulders, took a quick breath, and said in a steady voice,

"I expected something like this from you Ginevra." Molly gave her a very annoyed look, but then her eyes filled with crushing disappointment as she leveled her look just a few inches away from her and finished, "but not from you Harry."

All the air in her chest froze, Hermione let out a low gasp to her right, and she felt Harry physically stiffen behind her before he said in an even voice,

"I'm sorry. But I couldn't stay away."

"Really, how bloody hard could it be?" Ron growled next to them and she snapped her head toward her brother. Harry swallowed hard, his arm flexed against her stomach and Ginny looked at the tense standoff happening between her Mum, her brother, and her boyfriend and forced herself to say out loud,

"Am I missing something?"

"That's the problem Ginny, you're always missing the big picture." Ron shot off and she felt her anger spike and pushed against Harry's arm, but he kept her tight against him.

"Mum, can you please tell me why my brother is acting like such an arse? What did you not expect from…" she started, and then trailed off, her brain starting to put all the small pieces together.

"I'm acting like an arse? Really? I think I have plenty of reasons to act this way after what you put us all through this term." Ron took a few steps toward them, Ginny clenched her fists down on Harry's arm, Hermione started shifting nervously next to them, and her Mum watched the fight start to build with a blank face.

"So why am I suddenly such a burden? Why didn't this attack come during my term then? What in the bloody hell do you mean by big picture?" She tried to move out of Harry's grasp again but he continued to hold her like it was the only thing keeping him upright, or perhaps restrained. She could feel the anxiety building within him.

"Why don't you ask him?" Ron gave a terse nod at Harry and then took a step closer to them to say in a lower voice, "You should have never been at that Yule Ball and you know it."

"Ron!" Hermione interjected into the thick tension filling the kitchen, she sounded just as confused as Ginny felt.

"Excuse me," Ginny forced Harry's arms off herself with a hard push, and took two steps until she was toe to toe with her brother. "But I think my boyfriend should be allowed to come to my Yule Ball."

"He wasn't your boyfriend! And he knows what we asked of him." Ron looked past her and glared at Harry. "And you still did it anyway. Guess some things never change, eh?"

"Ronald." Her Mum warned, but still kept her distance. This was all entirely too odd, her Mum was supposed to be screaming at her, her brother was supposed to be supporting Harry, something quite serious and secretive must have happened.

"What did you tell him to do?" Ginny lowly asked. When Ron refused to answer she grabbed him by the front of his pajamas and shook him hard. "What?"

"Ginny," Harry grabbed the back of her jumper and pulled her back.

"After your," her Mum swallowed hard and said in a quieter voice, "_attempt_, we asked him to put some space between the two of you."

Hermione's hand flew to her face, muffling yet another gasp, Ron crossed his arms, and Harry dropped his hold on her jumper. Ginny turned toward her Mum, ignoring Ron's angry red face and couldn't hide the hurt in her voice when she quietly said,

"Attempt?"

Her Mum looked away, wiping at her eyes, Ginny swallowed hard. "Is that what you think it was? Did you even talk to Jenna? Have you even been following up on my progress? Did you even bother to ask me about it? Did you attempt to figure out everything that was going on with me, or did you just believe all the rumors and came to your own conclusions?"

"Ginny," her Mum started, trying to use an authoritative voice but it faltered.

"Did you even know what was going on with Neville and Harry and I? Or did you just assume everything? Like everyone else…" Ginny trailed off and looked away filling her chest with a very angry breath.

"Neville Longbottom?" Her Mum looked at Ron and then Harry and then back to herself.

"What did you ask him to do Mum? I asked you to go talk to him that night. I begged you to stay with him. What did you do?" Ginny already knew the answer, it had already been said, but she wanted to hear it from her Mother, the only person that Harry would follow direct orders from upon pain of death.

"Ginny," Harry ran his hand down her spine, his palm resting on the small of her back, she pressed into it. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"Oh I think it does," Ginny never broke eye contact with her Mum. "Because we were both about to be reprimanded for something I didn't even know was taking place. For some kind of demand that was made of you about me, behind my back."

"But you can't see it from our perspective Ginny." Ron's agitated voice filled the kitchen. "You can't see that every single time you passed out, or refused to eat, or had some episode at school, or got into trouble it was Harry. Every time it was Harry. All we wanted was for you to get better."

"I am better!" Ginny snapped.

"In the last two weeks Ginny. The two weeks that Harry didn't have contact with you." Her Mum said and Ginny's head moved so quickly at the sound of her voice that she heard her neck pop. "We love you, dear. But there is a pattern. We're just trying to fix it."

Ginny felt the knee jerk response she wanted to give die in her throat. Harry's hand trailed off her back, and she stood there for a long moment thinking over everything that had happened, how it must have looked to her family, all the things they didn't know, all the drama that she'd kept from them, and then finally everything she had come to discover about herself with Jenna.

She and Harry had their share of problems. Merlin knew there were going to be several more as they worked through all of their mess, but if there was one thing that she had learned from this term long disaster, it was that all her issues stemmed from control. Now that she had figured it all out, she couldn't go back now. She knew what her family wanted her to do, but ultimately she had the control. She took a deep breath and looked at her Mum,

"I love you too. But you're wrong. I'm sorry Mum, but I choose Harry, and there's nothing you can say that will change my mind."

"Ginny, please stop and think about what you're saying." Her Mum crossed her arms over her chest.

"I talk to Jenna for at least an hour every single day. I know what I'm saying. If you're not going to support my choice then I think it's time for you to leave." Ginny looked toward the fireplace. The room went incredibly still. Ginny refused to look at anything but the fireplace. Her Mum took a large breath and then said in a controlled voice,

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

"So am I." Ginny looked at her Mum one more time, her face a mask of pain and anger and a trace amount of doubt. Then with a loud POP she was gone. Ginny didn't even waste a second before turning to Ron. "That means you too."

"What?" Ron's eyes bugged out a bit.

"I know you had a hand in this. I didn't know why you were scowling so bad at the Yule Ball, but now it all makes sense. If you can't keep your mouth shut and be happy for me and Harry then you need to leave as well." Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny caught Hermione snapping her head back and forth between Harry and Ron.

"But I live here!" Ron's face flashed with red.

"There's plenty of room at the Burrow for you to sort yourself out." Ginny calmly said and then squared off with him, crossed her arms over her chest, and looked over at Harry. He met her gaze, his eyes a mix of shock and uneasiness. She shrugged at him, he nodded, and then they both turned back to Ron. "At least until the end of the holiday."

Ron scowled at both of them before he turned and with a POP left as well. Hermione let out an audible groan and put her face in her hands.

"Just one year," Hermione grumbled. "Just one year without some kind of drama would be nice."

"Sorry Hermione." Ginny moved across the floor to put a hand on her shoulder. "But you know I had to do that. I thought you told Ron about everything going on with Neville."

"I did." Hermione dropped her hands. "He thought it was funny. I don't think he believed how serious it was. He thought it was just Neville having a laugh or something ridiculous like that."

"Sounds about right." Harry grumbled next to them.

"I better go." Hermione looked at both of them and then pulled them both into a quick three-way hug. She pulled back, wiping at her nose, and then with a turn and POP left just her and Harry in the kitchen again.

They looked at each other; any hold overs of flirtation and promise from last night now evaporated between them. Like usual they were left in the wake of the explosive results of their relationship. Ginny leaned forward and put her head on his shoulder and breathed in deeply the scent of him; soap, lavender, and something that was particularly Harry that she could never quite put her finger on.

"I want to strangle them both." She fumed against his shoulder and clenched her fists at her side.

"You don't mean that." Harry's voice rumbled deep in his chest, and his hand smoothed down the length of her knotted hair.

She pulled away from him and looked up into his face, before she shook her head and asked, astonished,

"Did you not just witness that? I had no idea that my Mum was lording some horrible judgment over your head, I have half a mind to…"

"I don't have a family, Ginny." He quickly interjected and stopped her mid rant. She felt herself go very still as he looked away from her and continued, "Your family is my family. So if your Mum tells me to do _anything_, I will do it. Despite everything within me not wanting to, despite Collette telling me that one letter wasn't going to hurt, despite all the hundreds of letters that I wrote to you and had to burn. I can't tell your family no."

"Harry, I…" she choked on her words, stunned by his confession. He shook his head, took a breath through his nose, and looked back down at her,

"I couldn't stay away from you. I kept getting distracted in my mission, thinking how you must have thought that I hated you, that I didn't want you anymore. When I needed you so badly it was an actual pain in my chest. So I acted on it anyway, even after Ron and your Mum asked me to stay away. I don't want to hurt anyone but…"

"Shh…" Ginny pushed up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his own. He grabbed her tight, she smiled against his lips and whispered, "I told you last night, my world isn't right without you in it. They'll get over it. They'll have to."

He kissed her again, and she felt that tug of desire deep between her hips shake awake. She moved her hands up to his damp hair, running it through her fingers, his palms slipped up her jumper, feeling her bare skin. Then, of course, the fireplace roared to life again. They froze, Ginny pulled in a deep breath and prepared to start screaming when a new voice called out from the fireplace,

"Ginny?"

They both moved out from the kitchen and she felt Harry fall a few steps behind her as she stopped in front of the fire. George's face was floating in the green flames and he looked her over before calling out again,

"Catch!"

A small metal ball flew out from the fire and Ginny instinctively caught it. And within an instant she knew what he had done. She clenched her fist around the metal as it burned hot in her hand, and she never lost eye contact with George. Without looking away she rolled the ball out to hold it between her thumb and pointer finger, and took a deep breath, awaiting his judgment. The bright red ball burned in her fingers, and George looked past her at Harry for a long moment before he shook his head and said,

"Just wanted to see for myself."

With a flare of green flames he disappeared from her sight and the fire died back down into the regular orange and red. She stood there for a moment, and then the anger took over and she threw the ball as hard as she could into the fire. It exploded with a flash of white light and she heard Harry stir behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. Ginny let out a long sigh and continued to glare at the fireplace, willing her rising anger to leave, when her stomach growled loudly into the flat.

Harry started laughing, but was trying very hard not to laugh out loud, causing his body to shake. He let out a little cough, trying to cover for himself and she looked up over her shoulder at him and warned,

"Yeah, laugh it up Potter. But you better feed me soon."

"That's the least of our problems." He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "But the easiest to solve."

"Don't you…" she warned, but it was too late. With a nausea educing spin he side along apperated them out of the flat and out to breakfast.

* * *

Author's Notes:

I have a lot of people to thank this time around. If not for the following this chapter would have never happened:

"Friend" – Thank you so much for your words of encouragement and for telling me that even though you haven't read the books (yet!) you liked that Harry was such a stud.

G-Dub – Thank you so much for listening to my ranting and postulating and general freaking out about this chapter before stopping, thinking, and saying, "Well what if she doesn't go home?" OH how right you were – changed the whole chapter.

Sirusly Siriused – Thank you for being right on top of my SOS and offering your wonderful services to me. You were able to catch all the missing words that my very tired mind had been dropping through the chapter, and your attempts to help it be a bit more 'British' are very, very appreciated. Thank you so very, very much – and good luck this term!

Shades of Sunshine – Thank you for your spectacular work. Your 'blunt' approach brought this chapter to a better place, and I'm glad you told me exactly what you were thinking. Especially the ending. LOL. Your suggestions turned this chapter into something incredible. So thanks again.

TOW Gunner – Wherever you are – I hope you're well. You need to be thanked because we had been working toward this chapter for a long – long – long time. So thank you for getting me here, and helping me to here, and I hope you resurface soon.

Everyone that has stuck around this long – This chapter is for all of you. Thank you for reading, thank you for sticking around between my very long delays, and thank you for dropping me reviews of encouragement and inquiry. I'm glad we made it this far together, and I can't wait to see what you think for the final chapters.


	31. Chapter 31

Ghost of You

~Chapter 31~

_Oh, I'm scared to see the ending,_

_Why are we pretending this is nothing?_

_I'd tell you I miss you but I don't know how,_

_I've never heard silence quite this loud._

_The Story of Us – Taylor Swift  


* * *

_

"How long do you think I have before George breaks my arms?" Harry leaned back in the booth and crossed his arms over his chest. Ginny took the final bite of the corned beef hash on her plate and chewed while she considered it.

"Oh," she swallowed, "I only give you a few more hours."

"Hours." Harry blew out a low breath and then scanned the small diner. Ginny let out a small laugh and grabbed her tea, her feet propped up on the bench across from her where Harry was sitting. They had landed in the Leaky Cauldron, causing quite a stir. Harry had quickly transfigured some shoes for the both of them, and then without a single wave they took off through the Muggle entrance and out into London.

He had seemed to know where he was going, and after ten, very cold, minutes he had guided her into a small, family owned, diner. The place had booths on the walls to her left and right, shiny red vinyl seats with dark brown tables, and a few small tables with brightly colored chairs in the middle of the restaurant. The far wall held the counter where you paid and a beaded curtain lead into the back where all the food was prepared. It was quiet, and small, and empty, and she had fallen even more in love with him in that moment.

"I wouldn't accept any kind of packages if I were you." Ginny blew on her tea. "Even if it came from Kingsley himself. George is sneaky."

"You think I don't know that?" Harry grabbed her calf and squeezed. She squirmed and laughed out loud into the store as she saw the owner's son make his way over. Ginny felt like she could get used to living in Muggle London. They had walked through the streets, sat down in a restaurant, and ate an entire meal without a single person pointing, or whispering, or taking a photo. It was intoxicating.

"You two want some bread pudding? We're famous for it." The waiter smiled at them as he cleared their plates.

Ginny took a large breath and shook her head, "I'm far too full. Harry?"

"Oh, I know he wants one." The waiter smiled and walked away and Ginny laughed again.

"I take it you've been here before?" Ginny asked over a sip of her tea.

"No." Harry shook his head and grinned. "Never."

The bell on the front door jingled and another couple entered in and brought a biting rush of cold air. Ginny shivered and looked down at her clothes realizing with horror that she had been carted around Muggle London in pajama pants and a very old jumper. Merlin, she hoped they didn't run into anyone, anywhere, wizard or Muggle. She sunk lower in her seat, hoping to avoid the curious eyes of the new couple. They took a booth on the other side and one up, out of view.

Harry watched her with a curious look across his face, and then stood, moved to her side of the booth, and nudged her over so that she was trapped between him and the wall, hidden, and now much warmer. He snuck his arm along her lower back and pulled her close before grabbing his tea again and settling back into a comfortable silence. The waiter walked back over with a dinner plate and set the steaming food down in front of Harry.

"Sorry, we're all out of pecans. Did you want walnuts instead?" He held up a little dish filled with pieces of walnuts. Ginny pressed her lips together and tried not to laugh. He had been here often it would seem.

"No, no, thanks anyway." Harry smiled. She caught the blush starting to form high on his cheeks and the waiter smiled, giving Ginny the once over before leaving. Ginny felt her eyebrows rise in surprise and leaned toward Harry, who was sizing up how to attack the bread pudding, to whisper,

"Pecans?"

"I like them." He shrugged, retracted his arm, judged the plate a second time, and then dug in.

"I'll make a mental note." She grinned and took a long drink of her tea. Full, warm, comfortable, and happy Ginny let herself relax into the booth and let out a long breath. As she let it out, she stared at the empty seat in front of her, and let her vision go out of focus. The sounds of Harry cutting up his food next to her slowly faded away, and she let herself zone out, when it hit her.

She had all but banished her mum and Ron from Harry's apartment. George knew she wasn't 'pure' anymore – he wanted to see for himself; which meant that by now everyone else in the family knew. She had told her mum off. Oh, Merlin. What was she going to do? What was she going to do?

Harry's hand came down on her shoulder and she snapped back to attention darting a glance at him.

"You were hyperventilating," He murmured.

"What have I done?" She searched his eyes for the answer.

He swallowed hard, squeezed her shoulder, and then whispered; "we'll figure it out, Ginny."

"I can't believe I told my mum to leave your house." She looked away from him, his eyes were dark green and worried behind his glasses.

"I can't believe she left," Harry said and pushed the plate away, half finished. Ginny looked at the plate instead and had a flash of her Dad on the stairs, warning her about her brothers. With a groan she put her head in her hands and collapsed onto the table-top, moaning,

"They're going to torture you."

"Who?" Harry shot out. Ginny immediately sat back up and looked into his face.

"You have to let me protect you."

"Ginny, I think I can…" He started and she held up her hands to stop him.

"You don't understand. I've been watching them do this to each other's girlfriends for over a decade. I know all the tricks they're going to try. And I know George – better than most. I know he's going to be the dangerous one. My dad warned me about this. You have to let me protect you." She pleaded.

"Your dad – what?" Harry turned to her, his back to the waiter, who smartly and silently took the plate away, leaving the bill on the table. Ginny watched him leave and then took a deep breath.

"When I was nine Charlie brought his girlfriend over for dinner one night. It was during the summer, we hadn't seen him in quite a while and we had no idea he had been dating anyone. She seemed like a nice girl, bit mousy if you ask me, but she liked Charlie enough." She stopped to make sure he was paying attention. Harry nodded for her to continue. "Bill was the one who started it. He gave her a very long hug, and then ruffled her hair. Mum tried to laugh it off and nearly hexed Bill into the kitchen to help her, but the girl was frazzled now."

"Ginny that doesn't really scare me." Harry tried to pacify and she shook her head.

"Then when Charlie went to yell at Bill in the kitchen, Fred and George sent Ron into the living room with a pocket full of newts. They crawled all over the couch, and the girl, she shrieked and started to tear up. Ron started laughing. Charlie came running out. Mum came out and banished all the boys into the kitchen. She should have known better, but she was so flustered and embarrassed." Ginny let out a long sigh. "When we all sat down for dinner, George offered to serve the girl some string beans. They weren't string beans. She took one bite and disappeared before our eyes into her clothes."

"What happened to her?" Harry interrupted, his face a mix of impressed fear.

"She'd shrunk, and half turned into a rabbit." Ginny delicately said. Harry's mouth dropped open. "Mum and Charlie dashed off to St. Mungo's. But Dad…"

Ginny stopped as she remembered the absolute silence that had followed Charlie and his rabbit girlfriend leaving. Harry touched her arm and she snapped out of it and finished,

"Dad stood up and pointed to the kitchen. The five of them scrambled into it and then there was just silence. I don't know what happened in that kitchen. But I do know that Percy was let off the hook. He didn't know what was going on. And Ron and the Twins had to sleep outside for the rest of the summer. Bill was scarce for months after that. And poor Charlie was so embarrassed that he transferred to Romania and stayed there."

"Wow." Harry leaned back in his seat. "That's a horrible story. But Ginny," he smiled, "that doesn't make me scared."

"You'd think that." She frowned. "Harry I was nine. They've had way too much time to perfect their pranks now. Just promise me that you won't eat or touch or pick up or clean or…"

He leaned over and pressed a kiss onto her forehead, and Ginny stopped her rambling.

"How about this?" He whispered against her skin. "Why don't we make the preemptive strike, and that way it's in our hands?"

Ginny smiled large and pulled back to look into his eyes, "I knew there was a reason I loved you."

"That's that reason that tipped the scales?" Harry laughed and glanced at the check, pulling the appropriate amount of Muggle money out of his wallet. Ginny rolled her eyes and took a final sip of her tea when the waiter came over again.

"Was everything to your liking?" He directed the question right at Ginny and she stiffened a bit expecting this to be the moment where they were discovered.

"Stop worrying so much, Robert. It was great." Harry handed over the check and the money and added, "Keep the change."

"Should I keep pretending that you've never been here?" Ginny questioned setting her tea down and smiled at Robert their waiter.

"Honestly, I thought he'd starved to death during this last stretch." Robert pocketed the money and with a brilliant smile turned and moved to the other couple. Ginny laughed out loud and shook her head.

"Why is it that people continue to think you're incapable of feeding yourself Harry?"

Harry didn't answer, instead he moved out of the booth and extended his hand and helped her out. The couple in the corner looked out from their booth and then without a second glance went back to their breakfast. Ginny looked down at her clothes again and gave Harry a pointed look.

"I get it. I get it." He grinned and grabbed her hand, making his way toward the front door. With a final wave to Robert and his father up front, they made their way back out into the snow. Ginny instantly clenched in on herself, the winter air seeming to stab her through all the tiny holes in the beat up jumper. Harry gripped her hand tighter; they turned a corner and bumped right into someone.

"Sorry." The girl automatically said and then looked up. Ginny held in her groan. There was no way this girl was a Muggle. They weren't _that_ lucky. The stranger did a double take, her jaw dropped, and then she shrieked, "Harry Potter?"

"Sorry," Harry quickly mumbled and with a swift grab of Ginny's arm ushered them quickly down the street. The girl followed, still flabbergasted, into an alley. He took a single moment to give her an apologetic look. She just shrugged, and before Harry's hyperventilating fan could get to them they went spinning off, back to his flat.

Upon landing Ginny shuddered and heard a hoot. They both turned to see Harry's bird perched on the edge of the table strapped with a very large official looking scroll. He let her go and moved toward the table,

"Could you give me a moment?" He said over his shoulder and moved toward the bird. Ginny nodded and went into the living room. She leaned against the couch and watched as Harry released the scroll from the owl and then sorted through the rest of the mail that had been delivered during their outing. There was so much. Ginny hadn't expected to see so many letters. Several of them held the Ministry seal, some the Wizengamot seal; there was even a St. Mungo's letter in the bunch. Harry unrolled the newly delivered scroll with a frown and glanced over it, his eyebrows scrunching together. He read it again and then tossed it aside and went fumbling through the rest of the letters for something that must have pertained to the scroll.

It was so formal. So…adult. Hadn't they just escaped from a diner in London? Wearing pajamas? Harry pulled the chair out from the table, his bird settled into cleaning herself and he adjusted his glasses. She knew that look well enough. How many years had she watched him in the common room do just that? Sit, adjust, frown, and study for hours under Hermione's watchful eye. The frown formed on his face and she quietly pushed off into the bathroom. It would appear that this stack of mail could not be ignored, and she needed to bathe anyway.

* * *

After an absolutely revitalizing shower she had snuck into Harry's room, still trying not to distract him and stood there for a bit in a towel contemplating her options. She couldn't get back in the dress; she couldn't wear the same clothes again, so that meant digging though his drawers. Years of looking for her socks in her brother's drawers had taught her that this was potentially a very traumatizing act…but on the other hand she was naked. She stopped for a moment to laugh at how often she seemed to be in various stages of undress in this very bedroom, and then closed her eyes and opened the top drawer.

She cracked open an eye and saw one pair of mismatched socks and two pairs of underwear. Harry hadn't been kidding; he barely had any clothes. She looked over at the large lump of clothes next to his overflowing backpack and decided if he were still working after she dressed she'd do his laundry. At least to ensure she had something to wear. She really should just go home and get her own clothes…she stopped herself. No need to get all worked up again. Maybe she could just get Hermione to do it. She seemed to be a neutral party. She couldn't keep wearing Harry's boxers.

She pulled out the mismatched socks and one of the final pairs of boxers and started to shut the drawer when she heard a rattling. She shook the drawer again, hearing it in the very back, hidden in darkness. She pulled the drawer further out and saw five, now hardened, brightly colored taffy's roll toward her from the darkness. The quick intake of breath froze in her chest. Brighton Beach.

"You think you were the only one?" Harry's voice rumbled from the doorjamb and she snapped toward him, clutching the towel tighter around her body.

"I'm sorry," she fumbled. "I shouldn't have been digging around in your drawers." She looked away embarrassed, finishing with a mumbled, "needed clothes."

"I was afraid if I brought them with me, and…perhaps a dragon set fire to our tent," He grinned, "that I would have lost everything that reminded me of you."

"Then what did you bring?" She quietly asked, because all she'd had were the rocks from the beach to bring with her. Harry closed the space between them and pulled the empty Weeping Roses vial out of his pocket.

"You saved this?" She touched the small bottle in his warm hand.

"How could I not, after all it'd given me?" He softly answered. "Had to dig it out of your mum's trash."

She threw her arms around him and pulled him close, dropping the boxers and socks, and her hold on her towel. His arms wrapped around her, and then his fingers played with the bottoms of her still wet hair. He took a large breath and she exhaled. The towel loosened from around her chest and started to slip down. She pushed herself closer against him to try and stop it and glanced up to see Harry looking over her shoulder and down at her now exposed back.

"I don't have any clothes here, remember?" She said lightly and smiled.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Harry commented as he glanced at her backside again.

"You act like you'd prefer me prancing around in a towel all day long," She countered and smirked. Harry gave a long glance at the bed and then turned back to her with a smirk of his own.

"Or less."

She laughed, the towel separated from her body further and Harry scooped her up and planted a long kiss on the junction between her neck and shoulder before depositing her on the bed. She tried to reposition the towel as he ripped his jumper off, his glasses clattering to the floor, and then he dipped his head down and started kissing her knee moving his way up slowly. He got about mid-thigh when she had to fall back onto the bed to try and control her shallow breathing. The towel was gently being moved away the further north he got, and she had one fleeting thought of the wide open bedroom door before her mind fuzzed over as he reached his destination. Her fists clenched the duvet, and her body burned with lust and the freedom of knowing she could scream as loud as she wanted to this time, with the door wide open.

* * *

She woke up buried under sheets and duvet, sweating from the sheer amount of body heat that was almost pulsing off of Harry. Attempting to gently pull out of his grasp she heard a clicking sound and stopped. That couldn't be good. Slowly she pulled the covers down, repositioned Harry's baggy shirt, and looked out into the dark room. Her eyes adjusted and there on Harry's dresser across the room was a tiny toy monkey, dressed in a vest and strange looking hat, holding two cymbals.

Never one to trust seemingly unimportant objects, Ginny continued to slowly push the covers off, Harry still snoring beside her. It was so dark it had to be past dinner, which meant that her brothers would have had plenty of time to plant their first trap. Harry continued to think she was over exaggerating the possibility of him needing to go to St. Mungo's due to brother retaliation, but she was not going to let that happen.

The clicking started again, and the monkey turned in her direction. She felt her whole body freeze both in anticipation and sheer fear, and then Harry's hand started searching for her as he continued to sleep. She smiled at the notion and felt the fear start to melt away. The monkey's clicking stopped, and she tried to sit up a little more. She changed direction slightly and watched the monkey move as well, clicking again. So it was somehow sensing her motion. Harry let out a sigh and started moving around in the bed. The monkey tracked onto Harry's movements instead and the clicking went louder. She wasn't sure what it was going to do, but she knew it wouldn't be roses and chocolates, so she tried to quickly come up with a plan.

Motion detecting monkey, possibly bringing doom to the both of them, a boyfriend that tended to react violently to being woken with a start, wands left somewhere in the mess the room had become…they were screwed. She figured this was George's doing, though she couldn't imagine how he had possibly been able to sneak into the flat and leave it without it waking them up. Then again she had been pretty exhausted…Ginny smirked as flashes of her towel being thrown off filled her mind, and the monkey turned toward her again. Right – plan.

The monkey was waiting for something. The clicking went louder the longer the target moved. Harry started rolling around in the bed again, the monkey started to wind up, with a whirling sound, its little hat lighting up the room in a blue light. Ginny dove for the floor, vaulting over Harry. She landed with a thud, quickly snapped to her feet and yelled out,

"Accio wand!"

It slapped into her hand. She threw up a giant shield separating them from the monkey. Harry startled awake behind her summoning his own wand, which bounced against the shield. Unfortunately it was on the wrong side. Ginny watched as the monkey's hat filled the room with a blinding blue light. She continued to hold the shield up while closing her eyes, and felt Harry's hand land heavily on her shoulder and squeeze, his breath fast and hard in his chest.

The light disappeared and she opened her eyes to see the monkey's cymbals clank together once and make the thing explode with a shower of some slimy green substance. It coated everything on the other side of the shield and then everything settled back down into darkness. Ginny took a deep breath and looked over her shoulder,

"Believe me now?"

"Yes." He solemnly answered and looked past her at the disaster his room had become. Ginny lowered the shield right as the only remaining part of the monkey, his hat, sent off a shower of sparks burnt into the goo covered floor:

_Good luck. – Bill_

Ginny stood up with a fury in her limbs and moved toward the goo, which had coating everything, including all of Harry's clothes. Shaking her head she turned to look at him and he was nodding his head and squinting at the disaster.

"When we were sleeping?" He asked.

"Appears so." Ginny huffed.

"So much for our preemptive strike." Harry leaned down and touched the goo. It was incredibly sticky and a small stubborn piece stuck to his finger after he had been able to release it from the goo as a whole. He started rubbing it against his boxers and Ginny leaned against the bed frame. She was only wearing his t-shirt, all his clothes were covered in goo, her brothers had already started their prank war; she didn't see how this could get any worse.

"Hello?" Hermione's voice called out from the fireplace and Harry groaned. He looked down at his goo-covered boxers, and ran his clean hand over his exposed chest, squinted down at her and shook his head.

"Don't come back here," He ordered.

"Is something wrong?" Hermione's footsteps echoed with her voice and then they heard her take a startled breath.

"Oh my…what happened back here?" Hermione's voice hadn't even turned the corner, and Ginny looked out to see Ron's door across the hall covered in goo as well. She visualized Bill's face and her fist repeatedly slamming into it. This had to be some kind of special curse breaking goo he'd learned about. No doubt he had gone through illegal tracks to get it and that creepy monkey.

"Apparently the prank war against me has begun," Harry answered and looked out for his glasses and frowned. They were covered in goo, unfortunately having been on the wrong side of Ginny's shield.

"Is it all over the two of you?" Hermione called from around the corner.

Ginny heard her take a few steps toward them and called out, "No, but we're not wearing any clothes."

Harry shot her a dirty look, she felt like she could hear Hermione's blush from around the corner, and quickly amended, "I mean very little clothes. We were sleeping."

"At six in the evening…you know what, never mind. I already know too much." Hermione finished and they heard her move out toward the living room.

"Wait! Hermione!" Harry called out to her and Ginny grabbed the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around herself, tossing the duvet at Harry. He wore it like a cape and they saw Hermione's head peak around the corner.

"Yes?" She innocently asked, but gave them a wicked smile.

"Do you know what this is? I'm afraid if I banish it something worse will happen." Harry squinted at her and Ginny gave her friend a pathetic look.

"Give me a moment," Hermione called out to them and they lost sight of her bushy hair. Ginny took a longer look at the substance, but her mind blanked. It seemed like some kind of plant based slime, and she hadn't exactly been paying attention in Herbology considering…

"Have you found out which brother sent this prank? That can help me narrow it down." Hermione called out to them and they both answered with venom in their voice,

"Bill."

Ginny looked up at Harry and smiled, he reached down and went to touch her face and she quickly backed up, "Ugh! Slime!"

"Sorry, I can't…." an angry growl escaped his throat, "see anything. I really hate that I'm so bloody blind."

"I think it's cute, you're like a farsighted owl." Ginny laughed.

"Ha. Ha." Harry deadpanned.

"You can banish it!" Hermione called out to them and Ginny made quick work of it. The goo disappeared with a loud pop and Ginny let out a long sigh. She bent down toward Harry's glasses and discarded sweater and gagged.

"Oh Merlin's beard! It reeks. Everything smells horrible." She passed his glasses up to him and Harry jerked away smelling the offending aftermath of the goo.

"Sorry, side effect of the substance," Hermione said from the doorjamb, giving a long look at the two of them. "You're going to have to wash everything. Ingenious really."

"Because you don't have to do any of the work." Harry shook his head. "Do you even know what it was?" He shifted his cloak-duvet, but it still exposed his stripped boxers. Ginny pushed up from the floor and turned to look at Hermione and the bright red spots of blush on her cheeks.

"You knew all along!" Ginny accused.

"I overheard Bill talking to George at the Burrow yesterday." Hermione started and then crossed her arms over her chest. "You said you were naked! I don't need a visual like that! And wearing sheets is not helping your cause. Honestly…"

"What else is coming at us Hermione, please, you have to tell me. I have to protect Harry." Ginny moved toward Hermione, the sheets dragging behind her. She heard Harry make a noise of protest but Hermione answered before he could speak,

"That's it. Bill saw me when George was giving him pointers and they said I could be a 'double agent' and couldn't be trusted." She shrugged. "And before you ask Ron outright ignores me when I mention the two of you. He's impossible."

"Bloody prat," Ginny swore and looked down at the grey sheet wrapped around her, feeling embarrassed for a moment. Hermione had been with her through worse, but the physical aspect of her relationship with Harry was almost painfully new at times, and she didn't really feel like airing her…laundry so openly. Hermione took this moment to politely turn away and Ginny stormed across the hallway and threw open Ron's door.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, squinting at her from his doorjamb.

"If he's going to lump himself into the pranking side then I'm taking what I need from his room. I can't do all your laundry in a sheet!" She steamed and stepped through the threshold of the room.

It happened instantaneously, so fast in fact that she didn't have time to scream. One moment she was standing in Ron's room, the next she was blown back off her feet into the air, and then slammed into something somewhat hard but with some give. The something let out a grunt, and then her head slammed against the floor and she groaned.

"Ginny!" Hermione's screech reached her ears and she opened her eyes to see Harry's ceiling. In the next disoriented moment she felt Harry tap her a few times and realized that _he_ was the something she had slammed into, and he was now trapped to the floor because she was sprawled out on top of him. She rolled off of Harry, he gasped for breath, wheezing and coughing, and Hermione scrambled in.

"What?" Ginny felt the room spin around her.

"Oh your poor head," Hermione murmured and started gently touching all around her head for bumps, satisfied she quickly turned to Harry and put a fluttering hand on his chest. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine." Harry gasped and continued to lie on the floor. Ginny squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and then slid over so she could touch him herself.

"You really need to stop trying to save me." Ginny shook her head, and Hermione laughed so hard and fast she snorted and then flew her hands up to cover her face, looking at them with wide eyes.

"Wasn't trying this time. Blind. Remember." Harry managed and then pushed up to his elbows and squinted at her. Ginny started laughing this time, and then rubbed the back of her head.

"Was he trying to kill us? I mean think if the door had been closed? Or what if I didn't have a Harry to land on? That could have been a St. Mungo's trip." Ginny looked across the hall at her brother's seemingly harmless room.

"If it makes you feel any better I believe you now Ginny. I swear I'll be more careful." Harry said and fell back onto the floor finally taking long breaths.

"He's very upset, but he would never want to kill the two of you," Hermione mused and looked at the door herself. "I wonder…"

She trailed off, stood and then moved toward Ron's room. Ginny started dragging Harry out of the path of Hermione's soon to be flight and called out to her,

"Are you insane?"

Hermione stepped into the room and turned around to face them, Ginny sprawled across Harry trying to protect him from another stint as a landing pad. But nothing happened to Hermione. She moved deeper and deeper into the room and Ginny shook her head.

"I'm going to strangle him with my bare hands," Ginny grumbled and moved off of Harry.

"What did you need Ginny?" Hermione called out to her and started opening Ron's drawers.

"Anything other than a sheet," Ginny called back and looked down at Harry, still taking slow breaths. "Make it two of whatever you're grabbing."

Hermione's shoes clinked softly across the hall as she made her way back to them and handed Ginny two pairs of pajama bottoms, boxers, and shirts.

"I'll give you two a moment," Hermione quietly said and closed the door behind her as she left.

"Are you alright?" Ginny ran her hand down Harry's chest, still pulling in slow breaths.

"I'll be fine," He evenly replied and rolled away from her, her hand running across his body until it hit the floorboards as he stood. He extended his hand and helped pull Ginny up from the floor and said as he left the room, "I'm going to take a shower."

"Okay." Ginny responded but felt the icy wall he had thrown up instantly. He left without clothes, he left without looking back, and he didn't even deviate his eyes for a second toward Ron's room.

Ginny gathered up her sheet and made her way out toward the living room. Hermione looked up and gave her an apologetic smile. Ginny sat on the love seat next to Hermione, her sheet-dress falling onto Hermione's smart red jacket and lovely black skirt.

"You look nice," Ginny offered and Hermione laughed a little before answering,

"Well, I was coming over to invite the two of you to dinner tonight. But I think that will have to wait."

"Appears so," Ginny said distractedly as the water for the shower turned on behind them. "Do you think I'll be able to convince him that stint with the door was meant for me?"

"Pardon?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at her.

"I know Ron set that trap for me. Harry would never go in there. But Harry's just so angry now." Ginny answered and Hermione nodded sagely.

"Does it really matter? If it were meant for Harry he'd be angry. If it was meant for you-Harry's angry. It did its job. This isn't the first time Ron's been a bit…harsh toward Harry during a fight."

"But now I have to take the brunt of it," Ginny bleakly whispered. The water turned off behind them. Hermione leveled a serious look at her,

"You think Ron doesn't know that?"

Ginny felt such a white-hot fire in her blood that she couldn't say a single word. She just kept shaking her head over and over again, looking away from Hermione.

"I'm sorry you're coming late to this little game the two of them play, but I think this will be the worst of it. Good luck." Hermione stood and Ginny gave her a really pathetic look. She felt pathetic at the moment, being left with a brooding Harry was a task that even she didn't want.

"Don't go."

"You have lots of laundry to do. I'll come back tomorrow." Hermione nodded and called out into the apartment. "Bye Harry!"

Harry made some kind of grunted good-bye from his room and Hermione Apparated in the next moment. Ginny wrapped the sheet tighter around herself and then took a deep breath and moved back into the bedroom.

To her surprise Harry wasn't staring out the window, or brooding on his stripped bed. He was sorting his laundry and looked up at her as she shuffled in. Ginny gave him a tentative smile and he quickly smiled back and went back to sorting.

"Didn't know you could do laundry. I was under the impression boys just kept buying new clothes." Ginny tested and Harry laughed and straightened up.

"Can you keep a secret?" He asked. Ginny shuffled right up next to him and nodded, smiling so big she knew she was showing teeth. "I've been doing laundry since I was, maybe eight. But you can't tell anyone that, I'll be made fun of mercilessly."

"Secret's safe with me." Ginny zipped her mouth shut and shifted the sheet around her shoulders again. Harry's stomach took that moment to growl loudly and she laughed,

"I'd make you food but you don't have any here."

"I know. Any requests?" He asked and slipped on his shoes.

"Food," Ginny answered and started picking through the laundry, making minimal contact with each article of clothing just in case the smell didn't wash off in the shower.

"Got it," Harry said right behind her and surprised her with a kiss to her neck from behind. She blushed, like she'd been caught, and turned for a more proper kiss, but he was already gone.

Finally given a task that didn't include jumping, quick spell work, or pure panic, she fell into the practiced routine of washing clothes. She set scouring charms all over the floor and walls where the goo had landed, and even fit in a shower and change before Harry had thudded back into the department carrying several bags of groceries.

"And you can grocery shop as well?" Ginny took a bag from his arms. "You're lucky I'm already sworn to secrecy."

"I think I'll just lounge about the rest of the day. Don't want you getting any ideas about all the other things I'm hiding from you." Harry heaved the other bags onto the counter and shook his arms out.

"It's braiding hair, isn't it?" Ginny looked at him seriously. Harry blanched and she bent over laughing out loud.

"I'm waiting for the unflatteringly un-girly thing you're going to do so I can make fun of you about it," Harry grumbled and started placing all the food on the right shelves.

"Don't hold your breath." She smiled and moved toward the room to grab his Auror bag and the last bit of laundry to do. She was quite proud with the neat piles she had stacked across his bed, and the incredibly clean smell that was wafting through the flat. Making her way back across the living room she opened the washing machine and turned the bag upside down depositing the variety of dark colored clothes left at the bottom. Underwear and dress shirts seemed to be the only white items Harry owned.

She gave the bag a few more shakes, making the buckles and zippers jostle, and reached up on her toes to grab the detergent when Harry appeared at her side like she'd summoned him.

"Wait!" He yelped and dove into the washing machine, throwing out clothes, making them land on the stairs and floor as he continued to dig toward the bottom.

"What are you doing?" She took a few steps away and crossed her arms over the obnoxious orange Cannon's t-shirt Hermione had smuggled out for her. Harry bent over so far he looked like he was about to fall in, and then shot back up holding a small black box in his hand.

"Don't wash this." He put it in his pocket and moved back toward the kitchen.

Frozen by what she _thought_ she saw, her eyes tracked him as he went back to unpacking the groceries, not once turning back around. It had been a small black box. It fit in the palm of his hand. It had been hiding in the bottom of his bag. He had almost gone head first into the washing machine to ensure its safety. She stood among the discarded dirty clothes and blinked a few times before forcing herself to reach down and start picking up shirts and socks.

"What if I had washed it?" She called out to him. He ignored her. That only peaked her interest more, and she fumbled as fast as she could through starting the final load, spilling detergent all over the floor. She ignored it and made a beeline for the kitchen. Harry continued to unpack, slowly now as if sensing she was about to attack.

"Eh?" She pushed.

"What?" He asked over his shoulder.

"What if I had washed it?" She asked again. It seemed to be the safest way to dance around the issue, because the idea of what she thought it could be was making her palms sweat.

"I suppose it would have survived. But I prefer it to not be washed with my socks." He evaded and finished unpacking. "What would you like for dinner?"

"What's in the box?" She evaded and looked directly at his pocket.

"Oh good, I wanted soup as well. Good thing I bought some." He turned back to the cupboard and started to pull it out when she darted toward him. She had been expecting the block, if there was one thing Harry continued to be it was unnervingly quick handed, but she was the Seeker for Gryffindor for a reason.

Using her own quickness she landed a quick swat to his butt to distract him and in that single second of confusion she was able to grab onto the box from the outside of his pants. She looked up at with a shit-eating grin of accomplishment and Harry pressed his lips together and shrugged.

"If you want to spoil it, go right ahead."

Damn him. She backed away and let go of the small square in his pocket. Harry reached into it and pulled the box out, holding it in front of her face.

"No. No. I want to be surprised." She grumbled and reached down to pull out a pot to put on the stove.

"It's your Christmas present. If you wanted it now…" He trailed off and grabbed the pot to fill it with some water. Ginny grabbed the packet of Madame Merigot's Instant French Onion Soup and shook the contents down toward the bottom.

"You really know how to suck the fun out of things." She ripped the top off the package. Harry set the pot back on the stove and swished his wand to start a fire. Ginny peaked over waiting for the water to boil.

"I don't know; that was pretty fun. I haven't had someone beat me in a game of grab ass in a while." He leaned against the counter.

"Whom are you playing grab ass with?" Ginny raised an eyebrow and dumped the contents into the boiling water. She swished her wand a few times and the mixture started to spin and slowly unravel into thick amount of onions and salty dark brown broth.

Harry shrugged and she swatted at his shoulder, as the kitchen slowly filled with a delicious smell. She kept stirring as he grabbed the bowls and spoons, and Ginny felt herself stop and look at him for a moment. This was quite domestic of them.

"You know I was kidding, right?" Harry gave her a worried look and she shook herself out of her observation and grinned.

"I don't know, maybe Collette finds that to be an amusing way to pass the time." Ginny shrugged back at him and Harry rolled his eyes and checked the pot.

The soup stopped spinning on it's own, she swished her wand and deposited it into the two bowls, and they both watched as the bowls started to crust over with delicious cheese.

"That never gets old." Harry shook his head, his face a look of amazement.

Ginny couldn't stop it as it rolled off her tongue, "I never get tired of seeing that look on your face."

Harry bumped her with his hip, the square box pressing into her side, and then they both sat down for dinner.

* * *

"Hey?" Someone whispered by her ear and Ginny turned over. The person followed her across her bed and whispered again, "Hey."

"Leave me alone Hermione. Too early." Ginny grumbled. The person let out a low laugh and grabbed her shoulder turning her back in their direction.

"Ginny?" Harry asked and she cracked open an eye. Everything was still a little blurry, but she was sincerely hoping that she was imagining him in a suit and tie. Nothing good came of Harry dressing up.

"Yes?" She croaked and pushed up to sitting, her shoulder popping loudly. She rubbed at her face a few times and then tried to focus on him. There was barely any light filtering in through the curtains, it was far too early to be awake on her holiday break.

"I have to go, but I'll be back in a couple of hours," Harry said and smiled warmly at her.

"Go where? I thought you were on holiday. Holiday does not include ties." Ginny leaned forward and tugged his black tie.

"Just go back to sleep, it will be like I never left," Harry whispered and leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Done." Ginny yawned and slid back down onto her pillow, burying herself deep in the covers to avoid the cold snap that was making the flat freezing despite the warming charms. She closed her eyes and Harry ran a hand through her hair before she heard his dress shoes clicking against the floor as he left. She fell back into a blissful sleep, which felt like moments, but ended up being well into the afternoon. But still no Harry.

She shuffled out to the table and saw a summons from the Wizengamot. Well he certainly couldn't ignore that. She shrugged and made herself some breakfast trying to shake the sleepiness. As she munched on her cereal she looked out into the empty flat. It seemed so empty without Harry in it. It seemed even emptier without Ron. She frowned at the thought, allowing herself a moment to miss her brother, and then reminded herself that she was far too mad at him to miss him. He had nearly inflicted her with her upteenth concussion of the year last night, and was being an utter prat. She put her bowl down on the counter and tried to stay angry, but she just couldn't. No matter how much she and Ron fought, which was constantly, she just adored him. Always had. Ron had always been willing to play with her when they were younger, and had always been tactful about excluding her as they grew. Well…except for Harry. He had hoarded Harry like he'd disappear if she were allowed to even say two words to him.

Ginny fell against the counter as the thought formed. Had Ron known all along? That's exactly what had happened. No, she decided instantly. Ron was just sick of his little sister hanging on. He wanted to look cool to Harry when they were so much younger. An eleven year old Ron was an obnoxious one, twelve had been even worse. But Ginny couldn't help but feel that thought nagging at the back of her mind. Maybe Ron had never thought that, but he was certainly thinking it now. She felt awful. This horrible tug of war she had created was tearing everyone apart.

"He's not a rope!" She exclaimed out into the empty flat, and then shook her head. Talking to herself again, that was a bad sign. She hadn't really thought too much about why she was sleeping so much. It was several different things, combining with all the sleep deprivation of the term; the excitement of being utterly free of her at times claustrophobic family, and of course all the wonderful thing she was discovering with Harry that made her blush even in that moment. But she would have never thought that this ongoing battle with her family was one of things contributing to it. It was mentally exhausting to try and see this from every single angle.

She thought she was in the right, it was her decision whom she wanted to date, but she had never really thought too much about how it would change everything between her brother and Harry, or even Hermione and Harry. She had always figured she'd just slip seamlessly into their threesome and sometimes the three of them would laugh about things she didn't know, but it would be fine because they'd fill her in, or she wouldn't care. But every single one of them had felt the wedge she'd forced between all of them. Hermione could barely look her in the eyes, and Ron wasn't speaking to her at all. She never wanted it to be like this.

As she looked morosely at her now soggy cereal she heard a pop in the living room and paused for a moment, not wanting Harry to come home and see her frowning. But in that next moment Hermione turned the corner, looked her over carefully, and then cautiously asked,

"What happened?"

"Did I destroy your relationship with Harry?" Ginny tried to hold a face of composure but she was terrified Hermione would tell her yes.

"How could you possibly do that?" Hermione crossed her arms over her deep emerald jumper.

"By being his girlfriend," Ginny supplied. Hermione shook her head, smiled briefly, and them moved to stand next to her.

"Ginny, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but my friendship with Harry has nothing to do with you."

Ginny let out a small laugh and looked down at her feet, white from how cold the floor was. Hermione put a cool hand on her shoulder and continued,

"I suppose things will change now, but it's no different than what he had to suffer through when Ron and I were playing out that extremely long tango about liking each other. I can't tell you how many times he'd just sit there nodding as I'd go off on a tirade about your brother. Of course he knew we liked each other, but he didn't think it was his place to say anything…" she stopped and thought for a moment, "or maybe he just didn't want the trouble."

"I think it's the latter." Ginny banished her soggy breakfast and Hermione dropped her hand and nodded.

"Most likely. But why would you ever think that in the first place Ginny? Is it all this nonsense with Ron?"

"I suppose. When I don't want to strangle him I feel awful. I never wanted this to happen. And then I see your face sometimes when you look at Harry and I…"

"Last night you were only in a t-shirt, you have to at least give me some credit. I have no intention of ever seeing that again." Hermione interjected.

"And he just seems so sure, like it doesn't matter that I'm not talking to my family. As if this is all some silly play we're in and he knows the ending. I just wish he'd tell me how he feels about all this." Ginny finished losing her train of thought, feeling a wave of mental exhaustion wash over her.

"How could he not be worried? He's very good at hiding things Ginny." Hermione stopped and then took a small breath before finishing in a low voice, "He knew he had to die for quite a while before he told Ron and I. If he can keep that to himself what makes you think he isn't hiding his feelings about this too?"

Ginny sagged against the counter, not knowing why but feeling an overwhelming sense of defeat. They stood in the kitchen for a long silent moment before Ginny let out a miserable breath and said, "This is such a disaster."

"No, it's not." Hermione put both hands on her shoulders and made her stand up straight. "You are just looking at all the bad things that are happening. Focus on the positive."

"I suppose there have been some good things." Ginny smiled and Hermione let her go and took a step back appraising her outfit.

"We need to get you out of this flat. I was kidnapping you to go Christmas shopping with me but first Harry wasn't here, and second you can not go out in public like that."

"It's either this or my Yule Ball dress." Ginny ran her hands down the wrinkled Cannon's shirt and Quidditch warm up pants.

"I'd take the Yule Ball dress." Hermione laughed. "Let's just get you some clothes."

"Your clothes?" Ginny pushed off from the counter.

"No. Your clothes." Hermione nodded a look of mischief on her face.

"You do realize that my brother is probably guarding them, right?" Ginny moved past Hermione back into Harry's room to try and find some shoes to transfigure. Hermione followed after her and said,

"Don't you worry about that."

"I think you're underestimating just how angry my brother is," Ginny said pulling out a very old, very battered looking pair of sneakers.

"I think you're underestimating just how well I know your brother." Hermione raised an eyebrow at her and then flicked her wand and transfigured the shoes into something actually wearable. Ginny looked through Harry's closet for his warmest coat she could find, shrugged it on and nodded,

"Then lead on."

They landed with a crunch out in front of the Burrow and a flurry of snowflakes obscured her view for a moment before she could make out the front door. Despite the bitter cold she felt hot with anxiety and looked over at Hermione from the corner of her eye. Hermione just continued to stand, as if waiting for something, and when Ginny went to take a step, Hermione's mittened hand shot out and stopped her.

"Wait for it," Hermione said, her voice a giant white cloud that broke off into the falling snow.

Sure enough a moment later Ginny could see movement inside the house and Hermione's hand clamped down hard on her arm and she went whirling off into the house landing in the living room. Ginny opened her mouth to ask what was going on when she heard something thud in the room above them, her room. Hermione seemed to wait a moment longer than Ginny would have and then her hand squeezed her bicep again and they spun off landing in Ron's empty room.

"Are we going to keep doing this?" Ginny hissed at Hermione, but Hermione was focusing on all the other noises in the house and ignored her. As they heard Ron start to thud up the stairs from just a floor below Hermione's hand clamped down and Ginny took a deep breath trying to hold down the wave of vomit forming. She's always hated side-along Apparition.

They landed with a stumble inside her room. Ginny broke free from Hermione's strong grip and dashed for her closet. She started grabbing anything she could get her hands on. A blue sweater, a pair of old jeans, a long sleeved gray dress, her Harpy's t-shirt all piled up in her arms and then her door fired open, slamming so hard into the wall that it stuck. Ginny dropped all the clothes in surprise and fumbled for her wand, but Hermione was already way ahead of her in a fighting stance sizing up her brother.

Ron was red in the face and panting slightly, and seemed to not see her at all; his blue eyes trained on his girlfriend whose wand was flickering ominous red sparks. Ginny froze, thinking that maybe if she didn't move Ron wouldn't notice her.

"Don't think I won't," Ron warned Hermione.

"I know you won't," Hermione taunted, Ron's eyebrows rose toward his hairline, Hermione tilted her head to the side as if to signal the start of the battle and Ginny, slower than she'd ever done in her life, inched her way down toward the floor.

"Deprimo!" Ron shouted and Hermione ducked as the spell flew past her head and splattered into the wall causing parts of the wall to shower down onto Ginny. She held in her scream.

"Relashio!" Hermione shouted with a vicious slash of her wand. The fiery sparks raced toward her brother who dodged out of the way just in time to fire off his next spell.

"Confringo!" Ron snapped his wand and this time Ginny did scream. She forewent all stealth to dive for the floor and avoid the spell that blasted a huge hole in her wall.

"Fuck Ron! Are you trying to kill her?" Ginny screamed out from the floor. Ron's eyes snapped onto Ginny and she quickly rolled out of his line of sight as he raised his wand.

"Protego!" Hermione sent out a huge shield. Ginny scrambled toward her clothes, Hermione smirked at Ron from behind the shield and then tilted her head the other way and Ron shook his head, his eyes blazing and the tip of his wand starting to glow at the spell he was holding back. Ginny bundled up the few clothes she had managed to grab in her arms, continuing to try and be as small as she could on the floor. Hermione dropped the shield. Ron's wand cracked with the intensity of his wordless spell and Hermione jumped out of the way as it singed into the wall.

"Avis!" Hermione yelled and a flock of yellow birds came darting out of her wand and went straight for Ron's face. He swatted for a moment and then swung his wand wide, transfiguring the birds into a flock of yellow socks which dropped to the floor with a thud. Ginny started scrambling across the floor toward the door, clutching her clothes to her chest.

"Ha! Thought I forgot about those, eh? Good try love!" Ron laughed and took a few steps back and forth as if he was warming up. Hermione looked down at Ginny on the floor, smiled, ripped the gray dress out of her hand and did several things at once.

"Obscuro!" Hermione yelled out. Ron dropped his wand to the floor as he started rubbing at his now blind eyes. Hermione next shook out her dress and yelled out, "Portus!" And lastly, as she threw the dress back at her, Hermione took a running start toward her brother. As the Portkey started to pull at her belly-button, Ginny watched as Hermione checked her brother onto her bed and pinned him down in a very suggestive way.

She landed as a crumpled ball of clothes and pieces of her bedroom wall in the middle of Harry's living room. He jumped up from the couch and scrambled toward her. Ginny continued to clutch the small amount of clothes against her chest and shook her hair, pieces of wall falling to the floor.

"Ginny!" Harry hit his knees on the floor next to her, still wearing his nice pants and a loose tie.

"Oh Merlin." She closed her eyes, trying to steady herself, but it only gave her the lasting image of Hermione mounting her brother on her bed.

"What?" Harry's hands fluttered around her face looking for head injuries.

"I think Hermione and Ron are about to have sex on my bed," She blankly said, unable to shake the image.

"Gah!" Harry backed up from her and looked at her as if she had grown a second head.

"I can't un-see it. I can't un-see it!" She started babbling and closed her eyes shaking her head violently. It made the back of her skull swell with pain and she stopped and dropped her clothes to the floor.

"You are covered in…plaster? What happened to you?" Harry brushed her shoulder off.

"Hermione wanted to do clothes recon. She didn't tell me the plan. She Apparatted me all over the house. Her and Ron got into a battle. So many spells. So much damage to my room. And then…and then she…" Ginny looked at him, horrified.

"Stop." Harry held a hand up. "You can stop now."

"But she…" Ginny leaned towards him. Harry placed his fingers over her lips and shook his head.

"I am on a need to know basis when it comes to their relationship. I don't need to know that."

"But my bed. My bed Harry!" She pleaded and pulled her gray dress up to her face letting out a long moan.

"Best to leave it for dead now." Harry patted her shoulder and she shook her head again.

"And I only managed to get these few clothes. What am I going to do with this? None of these are my winter clothes!" Ginny punched the clothing on the floor.

Harry ran his hands down from her shoulders toward her hands and asked in a very cautious voice, "Do you want me to buy you clothes?"

She knew why he had said it cautiously. The stubborn Weasley pride stung in her chest with a vengeance and she straightened her shoulders and said very calmly,

"First, I have money. I could buy my own clothes. Second, it's the principle of the thing. I should be allowed to get my clothes from that house. And third, I know you're trying to help but…just give me a moment."

Harry wisely nodded and backed onto his haunches to stand and walk away. Ginny took another deep breath and then looked down at her now dirty clothes. It seemed the battle in her room had covered everything in a thin layer of white dust, including her. She shook her head and stood shaking the clothes out and hitting them with a cleaning spell.

"I'm going to take a shower," Ginny announced, not knowing where Harry had wandered off too.

"I will continue to sit on the couch," He answered and she looked over at him, lounging, reading what looked like some kind of Muggle coloring book. She made her way over and leaned over him, pieces of wall plaster falling into his lap.

"What is that?"

"Comic book," Harry supplied and turned the page.

"Does it do anything? Colors change? Those people jump out of the page and fight each other?" Ginny looked closer. It seemed quite dull to her.

"You just read it." Harry looked up at her, smiling.

"You've stuck around Hermione for too long." She laughed. "Okay I'm taking a shower."

"I'll be right here," He said and rumpled his hair, as if it was itchy, but it made Ginny's heart do a little flip. She could get really, really used to this domestic living thing they had going for them.

Her shower had only taken 10 or 15 minutes, but as she opened the door from the bathroom, opting to wear her jeans and Harpies t-shirt, she saw nothing but utter chaos. The place had been trashed. Chairs were over turned, pasta and rice rolling around the floor had spilled all the way from the kitchen, the coffee table had been apparently thrown to the side because all the contents of it were splashed across the floor. A terrible chill ran down her spine and she thought, for just a moment, that she shouldn't say a word so she still had the element of surprise when she attacked the person doing all this, but then she saw a black blur scamper across the ground in front of her and dart into Harry's room.

"Got you bugger!" Harry yelled out and Ginny raced into the room. It was in shambles. Clothes had been tossed around, things that she had never seen in the room before: a tiny silver box, some kind of whirling stick, all sorts of strange, flashy looking contraptions were all in the middle of the messy bed and Harry was on his knees in the middle of it diving for the now frozen Niffler on the floor.

"Charlie," Ginny growled and jumped back for a moment as another Niffler ran out from under Harry's bed and out into the flat. "How many?"

"I'd say about 10." Harry checked under his bed again and then abruptly stood up. "I need you to guard this."

He handed over the small, square, black box and clamped it in her hand. With a quick nod he took off after the one that had scurried away. Ginny felt her mouth fall open, half in confusion, half in shock, and then slowly started after him, rice and pasta crunching under her feet.

"You know the easiest way to catch them, right?" She called out to him.

"Exterminator?" Harry supplied and Ginny tucked the box into her pocket and tiptoed around all the mess toward his voice.

"A what? No." She picked up the metal pot that had been tossed aside. "Gather all the shiny things you own into one spot and wait it out."

She flicked her wand, summoning all the silver trinkets that had been gathered on the bed, and gently guided them next to the overturned pot. Then she summoned her bracelets from the Yule Ball and all the silverware. Everything came together in a clinking cloud above her head and Ginny settled them down around the pile.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Harry asked, leaning against the crooked table. Ginny pressed her finger to her mouth, mimicking for him to be quiet, and then moved the coffee table to create a sort of fort. She waved him over and ducked behind it. Harry gave her a skeptical look and she grabbed his arm and tugged him down.

"You have to be patient," She whispered.

"This is humiliating. I'm hiding from rodents. I am an Auror." Harry whispered back, so close to her ear it made the hair around it move and tickle her.

"You are not a very patient person. Just wait." She smiled and leaned against him, her wand out.

"I'm very patient," Harry grumbled. She looked up at him with a skeptical look. Harry gave her a warning look, but it only made her bounce with silent laughter, shaking him in the process. The flat went quiet, just the constant hum of the street traffic below, muted by all the snow, and their slow breathing as they waited for the slew of Niffler's to make their way out toward the trap.

He slowly inched his arm around her waist, so slowly that she looked at him again, but he was looking at the pile. When his arm finally wrapped her up, his fingers started to make a slow circle around her hip, his finger inching achingly slow under her jeans until his skin touched her own, still warm from the shower. Then his hand started to move up her shirt, again irritatingly slowly, and it dawned on her. With a swift shift of her body weight she straddled his lap and leaned against him to whisper into his ear,

"Slow isn't the same as patient."

"I'm not patient," He said to her lips, licking his own.

"I like that you aren't." She smiled and pressed against his chest, Harry closed the gap with a press up toward her and then snapped his arms around her waist and they fell back onto the floor, pasta crunching against his back. Ginny laughed against his mouth and pressed her hips into his. Harry's hands started to roam, her body started to burn. She placed both her hands on either side of his head. He tossed his glasses aside and his hands immediately ran up under her shirt, raking up her sides toward her bra. His hands fumbled with it, but she wasn't quite ready for that yet.

She slid down his body a little, grabbed his dress shirt and made him roll with her. With his body weight now pressing her into the floor, the lust burst in her stomach and flooded down toward where she really wanted him.

"Who's patient now?" He smiled down at her.

"Shut up." She grabbed his tie and tugged him down to her, and he wasted no time, bypassing her mouth and nudging her head aside to land a scratchy kiss at the junction of her neck, and like clockwork she exhaled clutching him closer. He started pushing her shirt up toward her head. She started squirming with the rice and broken pasta, trying to help him when they both heard it.

Scamper. Scamper. Squeak. And then metal being shifted around. Harry looked at her for a moment, seeming to debate if it was worth it, and then nodded toward his glasses. She reached behind herself and passed them over and then started to sit up, but Harry shook his head and pointed to his chest and then made the motion of zipping his lips shut, and she nodded. He did have her there, she was still way behind on non-verbal's. With a quick swish of his wand the flat went silent again and Ginny sat up.

"I think that's all of them." He grinned wide at her, jumped over the table and offered a hand up. Dropping rice on the floor as they made their way over, Ginny started counting.

"Three, five, six, seven…Charlie," She finished off in a grumble. Harry moved into the kitchen and tossed three more at the pile of frozen Nifflers and shiny objects.

"Ten. I thought I counted ten. But I can't be sure." He tugged at his tie and his eye swept the room.

"How did this even happen?" She looked at the wreckage.

"Well there was this package…" Harry started and she snapped back around to glare at him.

"We talked about this – no packages!"

"But it had Ministry seals on it. I thought…" Harry pointed at the unwrapped package on the table and she put up a finger to stop him.

"Oh…very smart of you Charlie." She crunched her way over toward the discarded packaging and picked it up. "Percy. He had Percy send this to you."

"Even Percy?" Harry's eyes went wide. Ginny tossed the box back at the table and shook her head,

"Worse than I had thought."

"But if we're counting you being catapulted from the room than we only have one more," Harry offered.

"And it's George," Ginny countered, shaking rice out of her hair.

"But there's only one left," Harry pressed, glancing down at the Nibblers.

"And it's George." Ginny punctuated this by smacking him against the shoulder. "You are not scared enough."

"It's been annoying," Harry leaned forward and brushed some dust off her shirt. "But nothing too damaging. I think you're overestimating your brother."

"How many OWL's did you get?" Ginny crossed her arms and looked him up and down.

"What?" Harry gave her a confused look.

"I could have sworn you were at least moderately smart."

"I...you..." He sputtered.

"I mean next to Hermione everyone looks stupid. But I seem to remember you being…" she looked away as she said this as if trying to summon the memory.

"That's enough out of you." Harry laughed and pulled her crossed arms toward him. "I believe we were in the middle of something before we were interrupted."

"But what about the current flat disaster?"

The smoldering look her gave her made any further flirting die on her lips. They didn't make it to the bedroom, and she didn't let him lose the tie.

* * *

The next day, three days into her emancipation, she was attempting to read Harry's comic as he sifted through piles and piles of files that had been sent over by the High Court. It would seem that going on 'holiday' from the Ministry meant he went full time for the Wizengamot. He kept frowning at things and rubbing his forehead, and the mental abuse he seemed to be going through ensured that she had only read the first two pages. She wished she could do anything, but whenever she inched closer he'd close a file, and as it snapped shut she'd get a glimpse. Usually it wasn't very pretty: lots of blood and destruction.

"Maybe you should take a break," She said quietly.

"I start testifying on January 2nd. I'm supposed to look all this over before that." Harry sighed and closed another folder. She ran her hand down his back and he sat up and stretched. "I don't even know about half of this stuff. I was on the run."

"That should exclude you, then, right?" She took in the very large stacks, feeling anxiety for him.

"Yeah right," He let out a bitter laugh, rubbing his forehead. Ginny rubbed his back again and he leaned back into the couch. "You must be bored."

"Me? No." She stood up from the couch and straightened out her gray dress. "I should go Christmas shopping anyway. Stay out of your hair. Let you get some work done." She moved toward the kitchen and grabbed his peacoat hanging on one of the chairs.

He gave her a pained look, something between guilt and relief, and looked briefly at his stacks before standing and shaking his head. "No, stay."

"It's fine. I'll be back in a few hours." She smiled and buttoned up the coat and held out her wand. Harry sat back down and nodded and she turned and landed right outside his front door and let out a long frosty breath of irritation.

She didn't have any Christmas shopping to do. She'd already picked up all of her gifts on one of the Hogsmeade weekends back at school, the sign on bonus money burning a hole in her pocket back then. Not that she was feeling all that charitable toward the majority of her family at the moment. Harry was the only person she couldn't find a gift for and she was at a complete loss as to what to get him. But that would not take two hours.

She had a very large chunk of time to kill and the longer she stood there the more people started to take a second glance at her. Flicking the collar of the jacket up to cover part of her face she quickly made her way into the thick crowd of shoppers in Diagon Alley. She knew her hair was still standing out, not to mention the fact that she was wearing a dress and beat up sneakers, but everyone seemed in such a frenzy to shop that she was jostled around as she looked at all the store windows, never seeing anything worth buying Harry.

It wasn't fair. She already knew what he'd gotten her – jewelry. The only thing she absolutely refused to figure out was what it was. Because she was sure that no matter what it was it was beautiful and perfect, but if it was something circular that was supposed to go on a specific finger she felt a little…hesitation. Not about Harry. She'd been coloring in dark hair on her dolls and making them marry her since she was about eight years old. She smiled as she remembered how she'd whisper so low it was almost inaudible, 'I now pronounce to you Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter' because her brothers would have teased her into an early grave at eight years old.

It was the idea of marriage. It seemed so formal and final. People that were married were chained to their desk jobs and had a hoard of children running around them. They always looked tired and in need of a drink. They weren't the soon to be rising star of the Holyhead Harpies. They weren't fresh out of Hogwarts. Merlin no. The only girls that were married straight out of Hogwarts had either been promised to someone when they were still a child, or were hiding a pregnancy. Despite how wrong it felt to feel it she was secretly hoping, very deep down inside her heart, that Harry wasn't giving her a ring. She needed more time. They had just suffered through one of the longest and hardest term of Hogwarts in her life. Yes – time. She wiped her sweaty palms off on her dress and realized she'd been staring at the same display for the past five minutes as she had contemplated all of this. The shopkeeper was giving her a strange look, and she looked at the display one more time.

All at once it was staring her right in the face and she pressed her hand against the window, the heat of her hand fogging up the window and she sprinted into the store. The shopkeeper, an older man with thinning brown hair and a pair of small gold-rimmed glasses, gave her a long look.

"Can I help you miss?"

"I need a Wizarding camera, please," She said smiling so big it made her cheeks burn a bit. Her skin stung as it warmed up in the store and she looked around at all the ancient cameras and equipment.

"Would you like one of the newer models? Or perhaps something a little different? I saw you eyeing the Optomatic 300 in the front of the store." He smiled gently at her.

"What is the difference?" She followed him to the front, careful to step cautiously around the precarious displaces filling the floor space.

"The newer cameras seem to attract the younger crowd. The pictures only take moments to develop. But," he leaned toward her smelling of cinnamon and some kind of balm that she'd smelt on her grandparent's before, "the pictures don't last for more than a few years. They start to lose the magic and freeze. The Optomatic 300 on the other hand works like all the models preceding it. Guaranteed 100% Wizarding pictures until they are destroyed."

He picked the camera off the shelf in the front display and placed it in her hands. It was slightly heavy, black with silver trimming, but compact compared to the ancient clunker her parents drug out of the attic every once in a while.

"It's beautiful," She said as she examined the camera.

"Not exactly 'hip and new' as the kids like to say. But it's a great camera, never an unsatisfied customer." He gently took it back from her hands.

"Then it's perfect, the person I'm buying it for…he's not like that." She smiled. "I'll take it, with several rolls of film please."

"A Christmas present?" The old man asked as he shuffled back toward the front, setting the camera down on the counter and pulling several rolls of film out from under the counter.

"Yes." Ginny looked around the store, bouncing with the thrill of knowing she'd just found the perfect present.

"I believe I have some wrapping paper left in the back." He moved, slowly, toward the back and she placed her hand on the counter.

"Oh, no thank you. I'm going to load the camera up with pictures first, an extra surprise."

He smiled brightly at her and started loading the camera with film, and looked up as he finished his task,

"He's a very lucky man."

Ginny felt herself blush and ducked her head a bit as she handed over the appropriate money she'd seen on the display, "Thank you."

"It's all ready. You make sure to send him back here if he has any questions at all. I'm one of the last stores out here that knows about these older cameras." He passed the camera into her hand with a small bag of film and gave her accepting hands a pat.

"Thank you, again. Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas to you dear." He smiled and she turned and went back out into the blistering cold, her plan already forming. With only a few steps she Apparated away to land right outside the Burrow. The snow was coming down thicker out in the sticks and she took some running steps backward to make sure she could get the whole house in frame.

Snow falling gently down on the house, smoke coming out of the several chimneys, her home standing out in all it's multi-colored glory amongst the pure white surrounding it. She swore it could have been a greeting card. She steadied herself in the snow and then snapped the picture, a plume of purple smoke mixing with the snow.

The front door swung open and Ron stepped out crossing his arms over his chest. She didn't want to give him the upper hand so she shouted out to him, "I hope you fixed my room!"

Ron gave her a rude gesture. She shot one right back at him and with another flick of her wand, before he could get any nasty ideas, she was spinning off toward the bushes down the street near Hermione's house. She trudged up the slippery sidewalk toward Hermione's parent's house, huffy by the time she knocked on the door. She tried to shake some of the snow off, the warming charm Harry'd put on the jacket was keeping her dry, but she was still slightly cold and shivered as the door swung open to Mrs. Granger.

"Ginny! What a pleasant surprise! Happy Christmas, please come in out of all this snow." She opened the door wide and gestured her inside.

"Happy Christmas Mrs. Granger. I was hoping I could sneak up on Hermione and take a picture. I'm giving Harry this camera for Christmas." She said in a quieter voice.

"Oh, what a lovely idea. Of course. I believe she's reading in her room." Mrs. Granger gestured down the hallway. Ginny smiled a thanks and looked down at the camera getting ready to calibrate it. She'd learned a bit about Wizarding cameras from the Creevy brothers. Especially this one. It was the one they were salivating over all through school. She stopped thinking after that because…well that vein of memory didn't lead anywhere but pain. She calibrated the camera to capture four seconds and threw open the door,

"Smile for Harry!" She called out and was not disappointed. Hermione was sitting on her bed, surrounded by books, but holding _Hogwart's: A History_ in her lap. She gave Ginny a shocked look and then waved her off, snapping the book shut. The purple plume filled the room with a thin layer of smoke and Ginny let out a laugh.

"How many times have you read that book?"

"Does it matter? No matter what the number is you'll make fun of me." Hermione huffed and placed the book on her pillow and pushed to her feet.

"Would you like a less candid photo?" Ginny held the camera back up. Hermione reached forward and put her hand over the lens.

"No."

"But it's for Harry." Ginny moved the camera out of her blocking hand and put it back up ready to snap.

"I don't care!" Hermione shouted. "I'm not nearly dressed up enough for pictures! Why don't I take a picture of you?" Hermione dived for the camera and took it out of her hands.

"No!" Ginny tried to duck, reaching down to grab a book to hide her face, and when she chanced a glace to the side Hermione laughed as the purple plume smoked the room again.

"Oh he'll love that one. You using a book as protection." Hermione laughed. Mrs. Granger knocked on the door,

"Girls would you like me to take a picture of the both of you?"

"Yes!" Ginny said as Hermione was shaking her head no. Ginny slung her arm around Hermione's shoulders and Mrs. Granger pressed the button down, looking quite confused by the whole thing. The two of them laughed and the purple smoke hazed the room, Mrs. Granger handed the camera back and quickly left all the smoke.

"Ginny," Hermione coughed. "This is actually a brilliant present. He would never expect this, and it's exactly what he needs."

"You don't happen to know what's in the box, do you?" Ginny gave her a cautious look.

Hermione's eye's bugged slightly, "What kind of box?"

"Never mind." Ginny sighed. "Can you think of anything else I should take pictures of for him?"

"Other than lots of pictures of you?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at her, holding back a laugh. But Ginny had a quick flashback of Hermione tilting her head at her brother and she took a few steps back. Hermione sensed the change in the air and looked away quickly.

"I should…go." Ginny turned toward the door.

"I have more clothes for you. I managed to steal some more. And your backpack from school." Hermione moved to her closet and pulled it out.

"You shouldn't have." Ginny smiled and slung the backpack over her shoulders, tugging at the peacoat.

"Ginny, about yesterday," Hermione started and Ginny started shaking her head fast and hard.

"Nope. Nope. Yesterday? What are you talking about? Nothing happened yesterday. This dress just appeared at Harry's flat."

"I'm sorry." Hermione quickly shot in and Ginny deflated. It's one thing to play along with her denial. To apologize for it just cemented in her brain that she'd have to burn her bed in a sacrificial fire now.

"Why'd you have to apologize? Now I know exactly what happened." Ginny shifted the camera back and forth in her hands absolutely refusing to make eye contact with her friend even though, from her peripheral vision, she could see she was bright red.

"Oh no!" Hermione stopped the moving camera with shaky hands. "Nothing like that happened. I've frozen him out for being such a prat. But I'm afraid I did tie him to your bed and leave him there for his Mum to find. I don't know if she fixed the room or not. But no. No, no, no, no." Hermione shook her head.

"Oh thank Merlin." Ginny sagged with relief. "Harry told me to leave the bed for dead."

"Oh my, you told Harry?" Hermione's mouth scrunched with concern.

"Of course I did. I was horrified. Traumatized! I Apparrated into the living room covered in wall pieces and stiff with terror." Ginny lamented.

"Now you're just being dramatic." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.

"Imagine if the tables had been turned." Ginny nodded sagely.

"I know what that feels like Ginny." Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"So," Ginny diverted, "Luna has gone on Holiday in France. Whom else should I take a picture of?"

Hermione opened her mouth, and then quickly shut it. Ginny immediately knew what she was going to say – Ron. Or maybe even her family. But that was out of the question.

"Why don't you let me take a nice picture of you?" Hermione held out her hand for the camera and Ginny passed it over shrugging off the jacket and backpack. She squared off at Hermione who already had the camera up to her face.

"Just one." Ginny warned her giving her a smirk and then smiled, ready to take the picture, but the purple plume choked them out and Hermione handed the camera back.

"I know for certain he'll love that one." Hermione picked up her backpack for her and waited as she shrugged into the coat. "You should go back and work on some of your coursework. You're still very far behind Ginny. Maybe Harry can help you."

Ginny just laughed really hard, placed the camera into the backpack on top of her clothes and slung on the backpack. "Bye Hermione."

"Dinner tomorrow night!" Hermione called after her leaving form and she raised a hand to signal she'd heard right before she Apparated away.

* * *

She found him right where she'd left him, buried under a mountain of paperwork. It hadn't exactly been a couple of hours, but at least now she had something else to distract herself with. Not that doing her Transfiguration assignments was something she wanted to do, but it still needed to be done. She couldn't start the next term off so far behind. Shaking off snow, she moved toward the dining room and heaved her bag onto the table. Careful not to hurt or reveal the camera she tucked her clothes around it and started pulling out all her books and parchment, ink bottles and quills, notes and lastly the sock which she had buried deep in the bag. She took the talismans out of the sock and sat down at the table, rolling the amulet and Brighton Beach vial in her palm as she went over the list of work she still had to do. There were the assignments she'd been given for the holiday, which were excessive if you asked her, and then there was the work that she was still catching up to after her sleeping draught episode.

"Totally not worth it," She grumbled. Harry laughed from the couch and she leaned back in the chair to look at him, his dark head still down and concentrating. Her eyes took in the task and then she saw a single scroll, wrapped with a lovely lavender bow, resting on the table. She doubted it was for her, no one knew she was here except her family. Rolling the shell vial down to her fingers she looked harder at the scroll and deemed it safe. They really were only waiting for George at this point, something she was sure would be horrible. It was possible that this was just a nice Christmas note to Harry from…she blanked. Who would send him something, no – correction what woman sent him something because a man would never use a lavender bow.

"You have a letter," She called out, still eyeing the mystery.

"Arrived just a moment ago." He answered and slapped another file onto his growing stack. He'd taken over the whole living room in her absence, separating the folders into several different piles. She was sure they all meant something to him, something about the war, something about the guilty and the innocent, and that of course meant something about his past he probably wanted to keep hidden. Even from her. He'd snapped every folder shut so quickly she was surprised she'd been able to make out anything. She forced herself to look back at her assignment sheet that had been meticulously created by Hermione. But her eye wandered to the scroll.

"Did you open it?" She asked.

"Obviously not, Ginny." He laughed again and leaned back looking at her. "Do you want me to?"

"No. No. Of course not. I'll just get back to this. I'm still not here." She ruffled her papers and stabbed her quill into an ink bottle.

Harry pushed up from the couch, made it over to the table and immediately cracked open the scroll. He cleared his throat and looked at her for a moment,

_Hello Harry,_

_I hope this letter finds you well and resting. I wanted to take a moment and send you my warm holiday wishes and hope that you finish up with all the trials sooner rather than later. You are missed out here in the trenches. Marcus insists that his eggs are much better than yours. Of course we all just laugh and indulge him._

_I also remembered this afternoon that there was one thing I had forgotten to tell you before you left. I have no doubt that you have patched things up with the lovely Ginny. I know this because:_

_On n'aime que ce qu'on ne possède pas tout entier._

Harry stopped and smiled at her. She gave him a big smile back and he looked back down at the scroll.

_I realized I hadn't told you what it means until this afternoon, so here is the big mystery solved for you:_

_We love only what we do not wholly possess._

_Happy Christmas to you and Ginny,_

_Collette_

Harry dropped the letter to the table, looking at it for a very long moment before looking back up at her. But Ginny was floored. How could a single sentence sum up their messy, sometimes volatile, and yet all-consuming relationship so easily? And how did Collette know that?

She met his eyes finally and was blasted with bottle green, a color she'd always equated with joy. She felt a shy smile pull across her face, and then Harry seemed to nod, as if he had just made a snap decision and pulled the black box out of his pocket. Ginny took a very large breath and held it. He reached across the table and placed it on top of her assignments,

"Happy Christmas, Ginny."

"Wait," She exhaled. Harry's eyes darkened slightly, and she reached into her backpack. "Close your eyes."

He pulled the chair next to her out and sat down, closing his eyes, his hands folded on the table and she pulled out the camera and set it just in front of his grasp. She knew she'd shaken his confidence a little by refusing to open her present first, but she realized in that moment that there was another reason she'd bought the camera. Not just to categorize and cement to picture his history, his past, but so he could start taking pictures of his new life. A life uncomplicated by death threats and curses and prophecies. One where everyone was smiling in all the pictures – including him.

"Happy Christmas, Harry."

He opened his eyes and a smile lit across his face like lightning.

"A camera? Thank you!" He reached over to hug her.

"Not just any camera. The best wizarding camera on the market. The photos will last forever." She smiled. Harry turned it over in his hands, admiring it, and then leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"Perfect." He kept it in one of his hands and gestured toward the box. "Your turn."

Ginny took another deep breath and then slowly opened the lid to the small, square, black box. As the lid came off she exhaled, relived, "It's not a ring."

"A ring?" Harry gave her a wary look. "No. But it was my Mum's."

Ginny bit her lip to stop the flood of emotion that flooded her in that moment. Gleaming in the smooth black velvet of the box was a brilliant sapphire, attached with a white gold casing and a sparkling unbreakable chain.

"It's beautiful," She whispered and touched the chain, almost afraid to touch something so important. It wasn't just a necklace he'd seen at a store and thought she might like, and the gravity of that made a lump form in her throat.

"I couldn't help but think when I was down there that jewelry is supposed to be worn, not sitting around in some vault." He said and looked at her nervously. "Do you like it?"

"It's perfect." She smiled, trying very hard not to let the tears get past her throat. She touched the chain again and smiled bigger and a cloud of purple smoke broke over their heads.

"Wow!" Harry swatted at it. "I guess I'll have to get used to that. No sneaking up on people I suppose."

"There's a button for that." Ginny laughed and sniffled a bit.

"Well put it on. I'd like to see it on." He pushed the box toward her and she pulled out the chain and unclasped it. He stood and helped her fasten it on and then stood back and she turned toward him.

"Beautiful." He nodded. She ran her hand down the chain and touched the stone.

"Thank you." She smiled and took a deep breath. "Picture?"

"Of course." He moved all her books around so that it propped the camera up, Ginny held back her comment until he was finished.

"There's a button for that." She walked forward and set the timer on the camera.

"This did come with a manual, right?" Harry asked as he pulled her tight against his side and looked toward the camera.

"I thought men didn't need manuals'." Ginny smiled, Harry smiled, and at the last moment she turned and kissed his cheek as the large purple plume went off.

* * *

Author's Note:  
Many, many, many thanks going out to all my readers. I have tried to quell your worry that I had abandoned the story and I promised a chapter. I hope the 10+ extra pages helped out! :)

Quidditchmum - A thousand thank you's! Your lovely brainstorming and hand holding has been tremendous help!

To "The idiot who wrote the screenplay to _Glitter_" - You know who you are! :) And you are still amazing to me so thanks!

And to my husband - There is nothing more bracing and encouraging than having you read my first chapter. Maybe it will only be the first chapter (lol) but I don't think you will ever understand how much it meant to me. Especially since you're not a reader!


	32. Chapter 32

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 32~

_Our only prayer is all our own_

_But we need it if we go alone_

'_Cause I don't wanna let you go_

_Though we're caught in the undertow_

_Undertow by Timbaland_

_

* * *

_

She knew it would only be a matter of time before George would strike. It was almost as if her brothers had all offered their pranks half-heartedly knowing that no matter what they did George would beat them all. And while they had all been valiant tries, she had also been waiting for the second shoe of George's stunt to drop. It had been a whole day without a prank, so she should have known better, and Harry shouldn't have let his guard down. He of all people should have known about constant vigilance.

They had just returned from Hermione's parent's house after a very nice dinner. There had only been one blimp in the whole evening and it had been right at the beginning where Hermione's father had asked where Ron was. Hermione had shot her father a long look; Hermione's mother cleared her throat loudly, and gestured wide toward the dinning room. She'd looked sideway at Harry at the same moment that Hermione had given them both an apologetic look, and Harry just shrugged and dinner went on without another incident.

Landing in the dark flat Harry flicked on some lights and they saw the piece of parchment lying on the table.

"Don't touch it." Ginny said to the silent flat.

"Obviously." Harry grumbled and they both slowly moved toward the table. He flicked his wand a few times causing the parchment to rise from the table and be suspended in the air, he mumbling things under his breath, and then let out a long sigh as the parchment fluttered on the table. "It's fine."

"You're sure?" She ran her palm against the smooth polished wood of the table and touched the edge of the parchment.

"Positive." Harry leaned over and snatched it up from the table. Ginny held her breath, nothing happened, and then he glanced at it and passed it over to her. Short and to the point she frowned at the cramped, slanted, ink blotted note:

_Mum wants the both of you at Christmas Eve dinner. And Christmas Day dinner._

_Not that it changes anything._

_-Ron_

"He's such a bloody prat." Ginny grumbled, crumpling up the parchment in her hand as a ball. Harry shrugged, she tossed the ball into the fireplace, and it instantly burned down to ash. Harry tossed his jacket at the table and started to move away when she took a breath and held it for a moment. That was the second time he had just shrugged off a mention of her brother.

"What did you want to do for the rest of the night?" He called out to her from the living room. She kicked off her formal, cramped shoes and moved out to stand over him. He was lounged on the couch, pretending to read a Prophet.

"Why don't you tell me what you really feel about all this?" She put her hands on her hips.

Harry raised an eyebrow and chanced a glance at her, rattled the paper around, and then focused back onto the print. She brought her hand down on the paper, moving it away from his face.

"Don't pretend you read the Prophet now. You're not going to hurt my feelings. You know we shouldn't keep things from each other, it always ends horribly." Ginny pulled the paper out of his hands and tossed it at the coffee table.

"I guess I…" Harry started and then stopped, frowning. "I can't help but think this is going to wind up exploding. Someone is going to get hurt. I'd almost rather keep this limbo."

"Harry," she sat down on the couch next to him. "This was going to explode no matter what. Nothing is ever easy with us."

"But what if it never goes back to normal?" He asked and then looked her dead in the eyes, trapping her with the agonized look on his face, and in that moment she saw the terror he had been keeping in about the thought of losing her brother.

"It will." She grabbed his hand and squeezed. "Ron is a lot of things, _a lot_ of things," she frowned thinking of them all, "but one of the things he will always be is your best friend. I know my brother."

"I hope you're right." He looked away.

"Harry, please." She released his hand. "You two fight so often I thought you'd be used to it by now. He'll steam about it for a couple of days and then it will all be passed over."

"You didn't see how angry he was Ginny. You didn't see the look on his face. He kept repeating that he had warned me. That he warned me, and he had to protect you." He said in a quiet voice.

Ginny looked over at him, crossing her arms over her chest, and exhaled. Several moments of silence passed between them, both curled up on themselves, on opposite sides of the couch. For a fleeting moment she felt like she could hear what he was thinking. It was written all over his face: indecision. She'd be lying if she hadn't felt the same way for a least her own fleeting moment. The diner in London rose to the surface of her thoughts, her moment of hyperventilating panic over what she had done, her own indecision. But in the end she had always come back to the same conclusion; he was worth it. Even sitting there in front of her, his eyes vacant as he was lost in his own thoughts, she fought the urge to giggle at the pure joy of having him right in front of her, and only her. She didn't have to share him anymore, didn't have to be lumped in with Ron and Hermione, or the DA, or the Quidditch team, or her family. He had done the one thing she had wanted all along - singled her out.

As much as she relished that idea, and reveled in the simplicity of just sitting on a couch with him, she never thought singling her out would erase the rest of her family, and partly erase Hermione from both of their lives. It was something she didn't want either. She would do anything to wipe that indecision off his face, and so she blinked and cleared her throat, snapping him out of his introspection,

"I'll talk to Ron."

"I don't think…" he started and she cut over him.

"No. I get it. I miss them all too. This whole thing is about me, right?" She waited for him to nod. "Then let me fix it. I'll talk to Ron, I'll fix this."

"I wish it would be that easy." Harry exhaled and stretched above his head. "I'm not going to willingly let you walk into danger because Ron's mad at me."

"They'll be no danger." She laughed and tossed her bracelet at the table.

"How will you mange that?" He grinned.

"Stunner, body bind, gag him, freeze him, and then send a note to Hermione to come right him."

Harry laughed loudly, his body shaking the couch with it, all the indecision on his face melting away, and she smiled brightly. She loved it when he laughed.

"Seems that you've got this under wraps. Sure you don't want to be an Auror? I could put in a good word for you." He pushed up from the couch, using her body as leverage, squeezing her leg as he stood.

"Whatever would we do when we're both bloody and unconscious on a hospital cot? Who would save the both of us from the sadistic nature of Healers?" Ginny called after him as he shuffled toward his room. There was a moment of silence and then they both said at the same time,

"Owl Hermione."

She started giggling, sliding down the couch to get comfortable, and then Harry's still laughing voice asked from the room,

"I thought you washed all my socks."

She only had a moment to gasp in a large breath to warn him when his laughter cut off, a screeching sound filled his bedroom, and he started cursing and swatting at things. She jumped up from the couch, and gasped with horror at what laid before her. Nothingness. Blackness. She couldn't see anything. All she could hear was crashing, breaking, swatting, coughing, and Harry swearing amidst the screeching from some kind of creature that seemed to be attacking him.

"Harry!" She screamed out into the blackness.

"Doxies!" He yelled back, coughing, and then sounded like he swatted at another one. The darkness started to expand, slowly moving toward her like an ominous cloud. "Stay back!"

"Let me help you!" She called out to him.

"How?" He yelled back, and she stopped herself knowing he was right. Peruvian Darkness Powder and Doxies. George. Her blood boiled. She cemented him into the guilty spot because of the unassuming sock that Harry had picked up. Another loud crash emitted from the room and she fretted at the edge of the couch. The building cloud had stopped right in front of the couch and she reached her hand out, it disappeared into the absolute blackness. Then she felt something land on her hand and bite it.

"Bugger!" She screamed out into the blackness, swatting at whatever had attacked her. It flew out into the living room, dropping the powder all over the furniture as it fluttered lopsided in an attempt to get away. She viciously shot a stunner at it and the Doxy dropped to the floor, she marched over to it, stood over the offending creature and heard Harry let out a rattling cough as he continued to swat.

She picked the Doxy up by its wings, the creature still unconscious from the stunner, and looked for some kind of container with a lid. She tore through the kitchen finally finding an empty jar and dropped the Doxy inside. She slammed it onto the table in the dinning room and heard a kind of dragging noise. She stopped and saw Harry, crawling across the floor on his hands and knees, as jet black as his hair, covered in the darkness powder.

"Oh Harry." She dropped to her knees and started whacking at all the dust. He let out three deep coughs, and then looked up at her, only his eyes and mouth free of dust.

"George?" He asked, crumpling to the floor, turned over so he was lying on his back, and coughed again.

"This reeks of him." Ginny grumbled, and gently took his glasses off to try and wipe some of the dust off of his face. Harry attempted to say something, but broke off into a fit of coughing and rolled to his side.

It was in that moment that a whirling sound started to emit from the room, powerful and slightly frightening, it filled the house with noise. Slowly the blackness started to pull back from the edge of the couch, leaving a wake of black dust covered pieces of furniture, picture frames, floorboards, and doorjambs. Her hair started to move toward the wind, all the extra dust on Harry started to suck toward the wind as well, and they watched as this force seemed to inhale all the dust hanging in the air. Ginny crawled across the floor watching it's retreat, following it into the room, and watched irritatingly impressed as the cloud of darkness powder and several of the unconscious Doxies were swallowed back up into the sock that sat on the floor.

As the last of the cloud was trapped back into the sock it rattled on the floor for a moment and then with a blinding flash and a loud crack the sock was gone. Ginny spent a long moment blinking over and over again, on her hands and knees on the floor, trying to get her vision back. It slowly came into focus and she realized she was hanging over the _Good Luck_ from Bill that had been scorched into the floorboards. And in that moment she realized the intention of it. It hadn't been a joke, it hadn't been a mischievous way to show he gave his blessing; it had been a warning. It had been a warning about George. And in that moment she felt her blood boil to a dangerous level in her body.

Harry could have been hurt. She could have been hurt. They could have laid there in his room inhaling Peruvian Darkness Powder for hours until someone checked on them, finding them bleeding from all the Doxy bites and sick from all the powder. And to think, she had stolen that faucet from Hogwarts, her own act of rebellious mischief, with the intent of Fred. She had realized she'd wanted to give it to George after the fact, as a gesture of solidarity, but now all she wanted to do was bludgeon him to death with it.

She ripped through her small collection of things in his room, covered in black dust, and found it. She held the faucet up in the dim light of his room and turned around to see Harry, wide eyed and still dusting darkness powder off himself. She slipped on some boots and a warm coat from her things.

"What's that?" He coughed.

"Chamber of Secret's faucet." Ginny shoved it deep into the pocket of her jacket and looked around for any other objects that might aid in her fratricide.

"The…_what_?" Harry yelled out into the room. She looked back up from the floor at his astonished face.

"Long story. I stole it. Flooded the place. I'll tell you later."

"So where are you going with it?" Harry took a cautious step toward her.

"To beat my brother to death with it." Ginny stood, ready to apperate.

"Ginny," Harry threw his hands out in front of himself in a begging manner. "My influence can only go so far. You can't kill your brother."

Ginny felt her face scrunch up in confusion for a moment, and then Harry grinned, his teeth looking extra white against all the darkness powder.

"Don't worry, I'll just maim him. It will never be traced back to you." She smiled and with a crack was on her way.

* * *

"George!" She strode out of the fireplace and quickly sized up the shop. She felt like she was panting with anger, but no George. The store was still in shambles from all the holiday shopping, the displays half empty, misplaced items stuck into nooks and ledges. A few pigmy puffs scattered at the site of her, and then the sky above her let out a jingle of bells and neon pink snow started to rain down upon her.

"George Weasley!" She yelled out into the empty store. Only a few lights were still on, it was obvious the store had been closed for at least an hour. The jingle bells rang off again and she was covered in blue snow next. She glared up at the cloud and then moved through the store careful not to step on any of the merchandise. In the back, behind the register, she could see some lights on, and she could smell the candy. He had to be back there.

Shifting around the display of love potions she rounding toward the back and was blasted in the face with a shower of sparkles, immediately after a trill voice called out into the empty store, "Happy Christmas". Ginny swallowed the scream she wanted to let out, instead it turned into a growl and she pushed open the cracked door to the back and strode toward the far room. She tried to shake some of the pink and blue snow off of her, but the silver sparkles had made it stick to her more. The last door on her left was cracked open, and a waft of toffee hit her nose. With a few quick strides she pushed open the door and looked around quickly, her eyes landing on her brother, hunched over a cauldron in the center of the room.

"George Weasley." She growled.

"That's my name don't…" he started and then looked up at her and stopped. His face dropped into a cautious scowl. "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" Ginny yelled at him and violently tried to shake some of the mess from his store out of her hair. "You know why I'm here so let's just get this over with." She pulled out her wand and planted her feet.

"There is no possible way you could take me. And why do you think it was me anyway?" George stood up from his stool next to the cauldron and pulled out his own wand.

"It was a sock, which happened to be filled with Peruvian Darkness powder and very angry Doxies. If that doesn't scream George I don't know what does." Ginny swung her wand and let out a spark of red that hit the ground next to the cauldron. "Honestly it was a little anti-climatic if you ask me. You're getting sloppy in your old age."

"Actually that sounds more like a Bill thing. Maybe even Charlie. You know he has an unnatural attraction to dangerous things." George glanced over at the cauldron next to him and the one behind him with interest. He wasn't even taking her threat seriously! Ginny twisted her wand and with a quick slash sent a stunner right to his shin. He yelped with pain, jumping around as she called over his cries,

"But they don't know about the sock George! How could you do that? Why would you even do that? I thought you liked Harry!"

"I do like Harry!" George spat and then kicked the stool across the room, it splintered against the wall and he turned back to her. Ginny gasped and took a step back. George looked deranged with anger and anguish. They played across his face with such turmoil that it wasn't until the flash of sadness that he started to look like himself again.

"George, what's wrong?" Ginny quietly asked. The cauldrons started to bubble larger around them and George ignored everything, the soon to be boil over's, the destruction he'd caused, and her as he looked at the far wall behind her. She turned around to look at the wall and saw a framed picture, hanging right where the door would hide it when opened. It was of Fred and George on the opening day of their store. Grinning like mad and hanging onto each other, they kept looking back at the store with pride.

"How'd you do it Ginny?" George's broken voice finally filled the silence and she turned back around, startled at how wounded he sounded. In the small amount of time she'd taken to look at the picture George had slumped against one of the bubbling cauldrons, taking a long drag from the flask in his hand. He looked haunted, his eyes bloodshot and bleary, his face drawn and hollow, his hair limp and hanging in his face. He took another long drag and leveled his piercing blue eyes at her.

"George, what happened to you?" She took a few steps toward him, moving around the wildly bubbling toffee cauldron, big splats of the gooey candy slopping to the floor around it.

"Glamour's. I got tired of everyone asking me if I was okay." He took another drink; she could smell the firewhiskey from where she stood. "So how'd you do it?"

"Do what? George why didn't you tell…" She started but George cut her off with a wave of his hand, the alcohol spilled from the flask, and she realized he was already drunk. Her heart plummeted toward her stomach. Oh no, no, no.

"How did you get better? If you shacked up with Potter and told off Mum, evicted Ron and managed to beat the ever living shite out of Neville Longbottom I'd have to say you're back to old form. So how'd you do it? Because a few weeks ago we thought we were going to have to plan another funeral." George finished with a drink, and then coughed, a tiny bit spraying out in front of him. It caught the flames of the cauldron and started a small fire.

Ginny quickly waved her wand at the fire, putting it out, and forced the fire out on the cauldron stopping the sloppy rain of taffy all over the floor. The cauldron in the far back was still frothing with green bubbles, some attempting to fall over the sides. And the cauldron that George was leaning against was starting to smoke. She pulled him off the cauldron, they both slipped in the taffy and as they righted themselves, George let out a bitter laugh.

"I was never going to kill myself. Why does everyone think that?" Ginny tried to shake the toffee off her boots.

"Because you lost your mind, and then you stopped eating, and then you couldn't keep it together long enough for anyone to have a conversation with you, then you tried to jump out a window. Should I keep going? Because that was just the stuff at home." George waved his wand at the flask and then took another long drag. "Was it the potions, or was it that woman, the blonde? Or something else."

He leaned forward, reeking of booze, and examined her closely. Ginny held perfectly still as he looked her over. For the first time in her life she was scared of her brother. She had never seen him like this before, ever. Everyone had expected him to be changed, maybe a little more subdued, but she didn't think any member of her family knew the extent George had altered. He had done a fantastic job of hiding it from everyone, and that made him incredibly dangerous. She didn't even know how he was still standing upright, she'd seen him ingest enough firewhiskey to put Charlie under the table in the short amount of time she'd been there, and he had been drunk before that. The cauldron next to them began to rumble, black and purple droplets flying out to land on their clothes and shoes and all over the floor mixing with the taffy.

"New product, vanishing lotion. Ron's idea. Haven't quite gotten it right yet." He swayed a little and then looked down into the pot, a drop flew out and he caught it on his pointer finger. Before her eyes it vanished, and then quickly reappeared but now jet-black, as if it had been burnt.

"Why didn't you tell anyone how much you were suffering? George we're here to help you, I know that this has been a hard year, but you don't ever have to do this alone." Ginny moved a few steps toward him.

"That must have been it." He laughed hard and then shuddered with a heave before swallowing and then taking another drink.

"Give me the flask George." She held out her hand, a few scalding drops of the potion landing on her arm and she watched her jacket burn with black spots.

"I must have not been nearly dramatic enough; fainting and swooning, knocking back sleeping potions, and dragging Harry Potter around by his bollocks. I bet if I would have done that everyone would have taken a second glance at me." He took another deep swig and Ginny flinched at how badly his words had cut into her. George swayed on his feet again, and then leaned forward and put his head in his hands, the flask clunking against his skull. "We were a team Ginny, how could you have done this to me?"

"What are you talking about?" Ginny closed the remaining steps between them and tried to pull the flask out of his hand. George snapped to attention, violently ripping the flask back, it sloshed all over her, and she gasped at the movement.

"We were the sick ones. We were the ones that needed the help. Everyone else just seemed to move on. Everyone else was just so….complacent about it. But you Ginny, you tried to kill yourself. You understood what it was like." He paused and seemed to hold back a wave of vomit. After a deep breath he tried to make his eyes track with her, but they were so crazed with anger and alcohol the best he could manage was focusing on her hairline. "And then I lost that too. We were a team."

"George." Ginny whispered, the heat of the room, the smell of the booze, the white hot flecks of potion, all swirled around in her head and she felt the breath come fast and hard in her chest.

"There you go aga…" he started and then leaned to his side and threw up everywhere. Ginny gagged, and then grabbed his shoulder to try and right him. The room was a disaster now, George started weeping into his hands, and Ginny held back another gag before her brain caught back up to the moment and she slung her arm around his waist and started moving him toward the stairs to the flat above the shop.

"I'm so sorry George. But I'm here now." She helped to haul him up, stair by stair to the flat above the shop that her brother's used to share, until they made it to the top and both stumbled into the darkness. George collapsed on the couch and didn't open his eyes as he said,

"Maybe I had been wrong all along. Maybe it wasn't you that understood."

"George," she choked on the beginning of her tears and looked away from the mess her brother had become. He cracked open an eye,

"No. No it was never you. I should have known. There's only one person who understands what this is like." He slurred and then closed his eye again and sagged further into the couch.

"Who George? Who?" She summoned a blanket, started the fireplace in the apartment, and brushed the hair out of his face.

"Ask your husband." He murmured and passed out. Ginny stared at her brother, the shell of who her brother used to be, and pressed a hand over her mouth as the tears started to come fast and hot down her face. George slid down the couch to land on his side and she sniffled as she moved into action. She set a warming charm over the blanket, she took off his boots, and she summoned a pain potion and a glass of water and set them up right next to him. She grabbed a bucket, just in case, and left it by his face, and then hit him with a few sobering charms. His body had jerked with the spells, but then the grimace on his face relaxed and he let out a long breath.

Ginny put another hand to her mouth to stop the sob and looked at her brother, she should stay. She should stay in this flat with him, she should stay and nurse him back to health, she should wait by _his_ bedside until he wanted to talk. And in that moment of decision George opened one of his eyes and grumbled,

"Just go, you've done enough already."

"No, George, I'm going to stay. It's not safe for you to be alone in this condition." She snuffled and summoned a chair.

"I've been drunker than this, all your handy work has just made the hangover worse. Just go." He turned away from her, pressing his face toward the couch and she moved a few steps closer when he yelled out into the apartment, "I said GO!"

She stumbled back, knocking the chair aside and took in a shaky breath before snapping,

"Maybe Harry is the only person who could know, but at least he's not a miserable drunk." She watched as George buried himself further into the couch. She turned to go and felt the faucet thump against her body and pulled it out of her jacket. Slamming it down onto the small table, making the pain potion clink against the glass of water, she finished in a cold voice, "I'll be back tomorrow."

She watched him burrow deeper into the couch and then turned on the spot and apperated back to the flat. She landed with another stumble, looked up to see Harry sitting on the couch, and looked down at the floor. She could feel the tickle in her nose, the swelling of her chest, she was about to burst into tears and she didn't want him to know. George had been right, Harry was the only one, and yet it was something everyone tried to forget – apparently just like George.

"What happened to you?" She heard his laughing, bouncing voice move toward her from the living room and bit her lip, still looking at the floor. "I expected some singed robes but this looks like a batt…"

She looked up as his hand ran down her messy back and the words died on his lips. Without asking, without prompting, he pulled her into a crushing hug, and started kissing the crown of her head. She felt the tears threaten at the back of her throat and summoned her last shred of resolve to ask,

"Is it something you never get over? The death of someone you love?"

His hands stalled for a moment, he pressed a long kiss onto her forehead, and quietly answered,

"No."

Her tears broke free and she fell into a fog of sadness after that. She knew that she'd stumbled through her shower, she knew they had stared at their uneaten dinner for a short amount of time, but it wasn't until they were both in bed, she sitting, swathed in another of his jumpers, and he laying down on his back that she felt the fog lift a little. All the happiness that she'd seen in the last few days had vanished from his face and she felt a deep stab of guilt, she knew it was her fault.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, and he looked over with dark eyes.

"It's not your fault." He gave her a weak smile.

"I didn't…you just seemed so…" she stuttered and pulled the sleeves over her hands, leaning back against the headboard.

"It gets easier." He looked up at the ceiling. "Once the shock of it wears off it's really hard at first, and then your life just keeps moving forward. Slowly all the thoughts and memories and guilt and pain that you were just drowning in starts to get pushed to half your brain, and then a fourth of your brain, and then it gets pushed into this place that you only visit every once in a while." His fingers moved across the bed until they found her hand and she held tightly onto it. "It gets easier, but you never get over it. He'll never get over it."

"But he's just so tormented." She stopped and looked at the far wall, unable to shake the broken image of her brother from her mind's eye. "You do not seem tormented."

"That's because of you." He answered and rolled toward her, she looked down, surprised and nodded for him to continue. "It's easier when there is someone worth trying for, someone who can love you, someone who will share the burden."

"Me?" She looked deep into his eyes.

"You." He nodded and she slid down the bed until they were face to face.

"Me too." She whispered and leaned forward to kiss him, his arm slung around her waist and pulled her close and she settled down into his shoulder.

"I'll fix it, Ginny." His voice rumbled low in his chest and she closed her eyes listening to his heartbeat and feeling a wave of calm and protection wash over her. Her body relaxed and she mumbled into his shoulder,

"We'll fix it."

Then his heartbeat settled into her brain and she quickly fell asleep.

* * *

If she feared her own demons visiting her in her dreams, it was double for Harry. They had both spent a mostly sleepless night, waking with a jolt and feeling the other ran a hand over their gasping chest. She had never wanted to see the dawn more than that night, and when it finally sifted weakly through the blinds into the room she heard him let out a long sigh of relief next to her.

"Eggs?" He croaked out into the room and she nodded next to him feeling exhausted and anxious all at the same time. Harry rolled out of bed and moved toward the kitchen, closing the door behind him. She took several deep breaths trying to will the anxiety away and sat up. No point in delaying this. She numbly moved through dressing herself in the mix-matched clothes Hermione had smuggled out of her closet: a bright yellow halter shirt and a pair of rust colored corduroy pants. She sighed at the clothes and then dug out a deep blue pea coat, one of the only things she had actually wanted from her closet. Finishing off her horrible ensemble with green boots she threw her hair back and made her way out to breakfast.

"You look…great." Harry lied and turned back to flipping eggs.

"All I know is that I'm smuggling the rest of my closet out tonight after dinner. Or before. Maybe we can make a break for it before all the yelling starts." Ginny collapsed into a chair and Harry made his way over sitting a plate of eggs and toast down.

"You want me to come with you?" He leveled serious green at her. She debated it for a moment and then went with her gut.

"No." His face fell a bit and he sat down. She explained, "It's not that I don't want you there. It's just…he's my brother. I feel like I should…" she trailed off. She couldn't finish the line of thought, which ended with her gently explaining that he didn't know what it felt like to have a sibling. The secrets that siblings kept from their parents; the bond that was stronger than any fights or anguish or separation; the knowledge that deep in her gut she knew that she had the answers, or at least the strength to hold him up as he struggled through it.

"I understand." He said to his eggs stabbing them to pieces. Guilt jabbed in her stomach, weren't they a team? Hadn't she forced him into this strange limbo by forcing her family from his flat? Maybe she shouldn't be keeping him out of this. Maybe Harry would be the only person that could get through to George anyway. Maybe all the sisterly love she was now feeling for her brother would do nothing but further infuriate him, like it did last night. Hadn't Harry been the one to talk Ron down the night Charlie had dragged George into the Burrow passed out drunk?

"Maybe you should come." She pushed her half eaten breakfast away. Harry looked up and she shrugged.

"I get it, Ginny. You don't have to feel guilted into inviting me." He pushed his own plate away. She stood up from the table and crossed her arms.

"And you don't need to pout about it. Just go get dressed. We're a team now."

Harry's shoulders bounced with an unshed bubble of laughter and slowly moved toward his room without another word. She felt the same way; the sleep deprivation was making her feel like every moment awake was sucking away what little consciousness she had left. Moments later he reappeared looking much more coordinated than she did.

"I am totally stealing the rest of my closet tonight." She looked him up and down.

"Sick of my boxers and jumpers already?" He joked and checked his pockets for his wand.

"No," she smiled, "but I'm starting to think Hermione might be void of any stylish abilities. I mean look at this." She gestured her hands up and down her body. Harry smiled at her and then waved her over to his side of the table.

"I like everything you wear."

She rolled her eyes at him and grabbed his arm sending them spinning off to George's apartment. They landed with a thump and she looked out into the darkness. All the blinds were shut, all the lights were off, even the fireplace was dead. The flat smelled stale and musty, as if he hadn't opened the windows in quite some time. A layer of dust had settled over everything, implying that George had not touched a single thing in a very long time. The couch that she had left him in was empty, and the faucet was gone, but no sign of George. She dropped her hold on Harry and started to walk around, slowly and carefully, feeling like she was surrounded by relics that were prone to breaking at the slightest breeze. The realization crept over her quickly and with a heart shattering intensity. She stopped not even bothering to go into the bedroom.

"He's not here." She whispered into the apartment. All she could hear was Harry's breath as he waited for her to explain further. "I don't think he's been here since the funeral."

She watched as Harry looked around at the state of decay. George had left the flat for dead, and she had broken into this mausoleum last night and forced him into the grave. The horror of what she had done made her knees waver for a moment.

"Where is he then?" Harry asked the apartment and she leaned against a bookshelf, her hand sliding in all the dust. The sound caused him to look over, "Are you okay?"

"Is there anything I can do right?" She shook her head and looked around the place. "Why did I leave him here last night? How could I have done that to him?"

"Ginny," he ran a hand down her hair, "you didn't know. How could you have known?"

The dust from the bookshelf started to feel like it was caking the inside of her throat, choking her, she put a hand to her throat and looked up at him. Without another word he grabbed her around the waist and drug her out of the apartment and down the stairs, closing the door to the flat firmly behind them. She sat down on the stairs, deeply breathing the clean air and shook her head.

"I just don't understand. I stole the Chamber of Secret's faucet just to remind myself of Fred, and he had an entire flat with nothing but memories and he's just left it there."

"It's not like that for him." Harry said as he sat down next to her. "You wanted to remind yourself. Obviously George isn't ready for that. He's not ready to face that yet."

She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder, "How can I help him if he's not even ready?"

"I don't know, love." He said, his voice vibrating in his chest. She pressed closer against him, his arm snuck around her waist, and she fell into silence. They stayed like that for a moment before a door swung open below them and they both stood up.

"George?" Ginny called down the stairs moving faster than she had all morning to reach the bottom. She felt Harry stop a step behind her as the opening door had revealed an awestruck and frightened blonde in magenta robes.

"Do you know where he is?" The blonde asked. Ginny looked at her nametag: Rosemary. Ginny shook her head and sagged against Harry.

"Is he supposed to be in this store today?" Harry asked. The girl blushed for a moment and then seemed to steel herself and answered steadily,

"Yes. Normally he's already here, but the store is a disaster and we're supposed to open in less than two hours." Her eyes hinted at panic and Ginny nodded,

"We'll help. Harry you work on the back room. Watch out for the vomit. Rosemary, you and I will clean the front."

"Oh," the girl shuddered with surprise and then promptly turned around and started on her task.

"Why do I always end up cleaning Weasley vomit?" He moaned as he moved past her and toward the back.

"Because you love us." Ginny called after him and heard a grumble of response. She steadied herself from all the fluttering worry and sadness over George, and moved out to the front.

* * *

She groaned a bit as her mind slipped back into alertness. Her neck hurt, her shoulders hurt, and she had some kind of bruise forming on her hand. For a foggy moment she looked around the dark flat and felt completely disoriented. Then she heard Harry snore and snapped to attention.

"Dinner!" She yelled out into the flat. Harry startled awake, throwing his arm out defensively on the other couch and she stood up and then immediately sat back down. The world swam as the blood rushed to her head.

"Ginny?" Harry asked his voice thick with sleep.

"Dinner." She repeated and he blinked blearily at her a few times before sitting as well.

"Did we miss it?" He squinted at the clock without his glasses on and she looked as well, six in the evening. Dinner would be starting any minute. She looked down at her mismatched outfit; she ran a hand through her now bushy hair, wiped at her eyes and looked over at Harry. Blinking long and slowly, like an owl, he fell back onto the couch.

"Do we even want to go?" Ginny asked the flat in general. She heard the angry doxy clink against the jar still sitting on the dinning room table. Passed out did not even cover the level of sleep they had fallen into upon coming back from the shop. They had worked right up until opening, cleaning, stocking, counting, and when the second employee had shuffled in a few minutes before the crowd outside could be set loose they had looked at Rosemary and she waved them off. They must have slept for almost ten hours, and all she felt was tired.

"Was that a rhetorical question?" Harry directed at her. She leaned back on her own couch and scrunched up her mouth.

"I mean…this is going to be ugly. Should we really subject ourselves to that torture? We've done our family deed for the day. Shouldn't that be enough?"

"Ginny." Harry warned and stood, his body popping with the action.

"You know what's going to happen. Ron's going to come at you, you're going to defend yourself, Hermione will start gasping, Mum will start shrieking, and I'll have to pull you into the fireplace swearing and sending stunners at my laughing brothers." Ginny played the scenario through her head.

"Ginny." Harry said much more firmly and passed her couch toward the dinning room.

"Or worse," she looked blankly at the wall in front of her. "Everyone will be so quiet awaiting the explosion that the entire time will be spent in awkwardness. Maybe even polite manners!" She gasped and Harry appeared before her holding out her blue pea coat.

"Ginny."

"Fine. But I warned you." She glared up at him and let him pull her off the couch and directly into an apperation, as if even _he_ knew that if they didn't leave they'd change their minds.

They landed right outside the door; muted sounds of talking and moving reaching them out in the quiet, cold, snow covered grounds.

"We could go back now. No one's noticed we're here." She whispered and then the front door swung open to reveal her father.

"They all doubted it, but I knew you'd be here." He smiled and gestured them inside. Ginny leveled a dark look at Harry, he shook his head, and they shuffled through the snow toward the door.

As usual the house was decorated in all the Christmas finery. Holly and mistletoe on all the doorjambs, paper chains in a variety of colors seeming to stream seamlessly along the walls, candles lit, best china out on the table, and the smell of pine mixing with all the food that was weighing the table down. What wasn't usual was when they rounded the corner and everyone looked up from the table, silently. Not even a fork clinking against a plate.

Ginny nodded quickly before she could roll her eyes at Harry. He took the seat right next to her, the table still in an uncomfortable silence and she looked around at her stunned family. But one was missing.

"Where's George?" She asked the group. Everyone seemed to snap out of it and started passing food around and making noise, but not small talk. She looked directly at Hermione who seemed torn between actually talking to her and continuing to hold her tongue in whatever pact of silence that had been made before their arrival. Ginny leveled a look at her friend that usually made her do her bidding at school and Hermione rolled her eyes and took a breath,

"No one knows. He isn't at either of the shops, or his flat, or his flat in Hogsmead."

Ron shot Hermione a dirty look and Ginny ignored the two of them and turned sideway to look at Harry.

"We have to go find him." She said at normal pitch.

"Ginny no one even knows where he is. Maybe he doesn't want to be found." He said in a quiet voice, glancing around at the dozen or so eyes that were staring them down.

"Or he's dead." She punctuated loudly. Fleur dropped her fork in surprise and Ginny ignored the burning, angry stare she knew Ron was directing at the side of her head. Harry took a breath, pulling a roll from the table and her Mum interjected into the non-talking,

"That's quite a dramatic thing to say Ginevra."

"Well it's the truth. And I'd rather be finding George." Ginny pushed back from the table. Harry's hand came down on her thigh, gripping it in an iron lock. She looked at him briefly before looking back up at the table. Everyone seemed to be looking at their food and at each other from the corner of their eyes, not a single whisper escaping.

"I'm sure your brother is fine. And eating dinner together is family tradition, so I would appreciate it if you would just stay at the table and mind your manners." Her Mum raised an eyebrow, daring her to rebuke her. Harry's hand came down harder and she dug her nails into the top of his hand, he wasn't going to hold her back this time.

"A family tradition that doesn't pertain to George? Or are you enjoying this torment a little too much to have me go so soon?" Ginny leveled at her Mum. The table fell back into absolute silence, and Harry gave up on her leg, she retracted her nails. He tossed his napkin at his full plate and shook his head.

"I didn't have to invite you. You've made it perfectly clear whom you'd prefer to spend your time with now. So no, I'm not trying to torment you, I'm attempting to still include you despite your rudeness and compromised morals." Her Mum's cheeks flushed with anger and Ginny felt her own face get hot.

"You made me choose! You made me! And do not even begin to lie to everyone that you are attempting to reach out to Harry and I. You haven't spoken to me in five days. Five days! I had to send Hermione in here to steal clothes for me because every time I get to the door Ron runs me off. We get a nasty letter from him this morning that was less than hospitable. So I'm sorry but I think _I'm_ the one that hasn't compromised my manners and morals." She stood up from the table and looked at all her siblings, her father, Hermione, Fleur, and took a deep breath.

"Ginny," her Father warned, but she was steaming now. She turned to her Mum and finished,

"And I want to find George because last night he sent Harry an enchanted sock full of Peruvian Darkness Powder and hacked off Doxies." She stopped only for a second as she saw Charlie and Bill suppressing their chuckles. "And when I went to confront him about how _all_ of my brothers have been trying to send Harry to St. Mungo's for dating me, you know what I found?"

She stopped, all the silent laughing had stopped, all eyes were on her, and she faltered a moment. Was this something she should tell everyone? Hadn't he trusted her with his deepest, darkest secrets that he had been hiding all this time? Harry pushed back from the table, quickly grabbing a roll, and she straightened, fixed her jacket, and moved away from the table.

"What?" Percy called out and it surprised her so much that it was him that she shook her head and finished in a much quieter voice,

"Nothing good."

"Sorry to interrupt your dinner." Harry said and nodded in general to them all and they both made a beeline for the door. Even when the front door had closed behind them there still hadn't been any noise from inside the house. Harry shoved his roll deep into his pocket and turned to her.

"Please," she begged not meeting his eyes. "I know I fucked up in there."

"I think I know where George is." He said instead and she looked up long enough to be jerked by her bellybutton away from the disaster they had left at the Burrow. They landed with a slushy step right outside the Three Broomsticks and Ginny wanted to smack herself in the head that she hadn't thought of it herself. They pushed through into the mostly empty bar. Everyone that had a family to go home to had left, so it only left lonely drunks. But no redheads.

"If it isn't Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley. I'll be a Manticore's mother." Rosmerta called out to them and Harry moved quickly up to the bar.

"George here?" He wasted no time.

"Was here. Just stumbled off toward his shop bout ten minutes ago." She answered filling a patron's tall glass with an amber liquid.

"We should go." Ginny started to move and Rosmerta called after their turning around,

"Left with a girl. Recognized her from Hogwarts. Johnson I believe. I'm better with last names."

"Angelina?" Ginny looked at Harry confused, and then they waved their goodbye as they nearly jogged down the street. All the shops were closed, but their windows were still showing impressive holiday displays, few patrons were out on the streets, and a wicked wind blew through, causing Ginny to gasp at how cold it was. Harry hit her with a warming charm and they made it to the shop, dark but for a single light on in the back. Without bothering with the side along they both apperated into the store, landing at the front desk to see Angelina flipping through a magazine behind the counter.

"Um…hi?" Ginny offered.

"He's just closing up in the back." She offered, shutting her magazine. Harry crossed his arms over his chest, confused and Ginny opened her mouth a few times trying to gauge what she wanted to say before coming up with,

"Is he sober?"

"Oh, Merlin no. I figured he was far too tossed to be out on his own. Shouldn't he be having dinner with your family?" Angelina seemed to realize how odd this was and looked closer at the two of them. "Shouldn't the two of you be having dinner with your family?"

"Shouldn't you?" Ginny countered, and regretted it. She didn't mean to mouth off but the adrenaline of the events this evening was catching up to her.

"We save the big dinner for Christmas Day. Everyone has two families to see and all that. Is there something…wrong?" Angelina asked looking over her shoulder toward the sound of a toilet flushing behind them.

"No." Ginny immediately said. Angelina looked away, doubting her, and George walked out from the back, not looking drunk at all, and she saw his eyes widen at the sight of the two of them.

"Harry? Ginny? What are you two doing here?"

"Looking for you." Harry answered and moved toward the fireplace. "But I can see you're also creating a reason to ditch the dinner, so I'll just let you get to it."

"But Harry…" Ginny started but he landed a sloppy kiss on her, to shut her up, and wrapped his arm around her waist dragging her toward the fireplace. Angelina leaned over the counter, watching them go, and they turned just for a moment to see George looking at them.

In that single moment George stretched his arm out, palm down, steady as could be, showing them he wasn't drunk at all, and then worded a silent thank you to Harry and turned back to Angelina.

"So where was this magnificent Sheppard's pie you told me about? Muggle London you said?"

Angelina laughed and moved around the counter to stand next to George and her words were lost to Ginny as green fire roared in her ears and they went shooting off back to Harry's flat.

They landed and she shoved him, stomped out of the fireplace, and then rounded on him dragging in a large breath to start her tirade when he smirked and shot in,

"You're welcome."

"You're walking a dangerous line Harry Potter." She glowered at him.

"Did you actually see him, Ginny? Really look at him?" He countered. She shook her head and he continued, "He looked happy. Actually happy. When was the last time you could say that about your brother?"

Ginny took a moment to think and then sagged, "You're right."

"Whatever you said to him last night. Whatever you did. Whatever Angelina did to make him leave the bar…it's all working. Don't mess with it." He leveled at her.

"But I just thought…" she started and he took two quick steps toward her and said in a lower voice,

"Don't mess with it." He looked down at his hand and held it up to her face. "Think you can heal me now?"

"Don't pretend you didn't bruise my thigh with your iron cast fingers." She snapped and waved her wand at his hand healing him, sticking her tongue out as he rolled his eyes.

"Am I not the bodyguard for your mouth?" He raised an eyebrow at her. Ginny smiled at him and he took another step toward her, his eyes looking long and hard at her body. "Maybe I should take a look at that."

"Is that all you think about?" She crossed her arms over her chest.

"And Quidditch." He nodded, thought about it for a moment, and a very sexy look crossed over his face. "And you're going to be a professional Quidditch player. Oh, you're in trouble."

"Only if you can catch me." She said and darted off into the apartment, hearing him quick on her heels.

* * *

Despite swearing up and down that it would only take him a moment, Harry's summons to Kingsley's office was taking more than an hour. Honestly, who called someone into a meeting on Christmas Day? She guessed the old adage was true; Auror's slept with one foot on the floor. She waited as long as she could, and after an abysmal search through the few clothes she had she knew she'd have to just suffer through it and pop over to her room. She couldn't show up for Christmas dinner wearing mismatched clothes no matter how much she disliked her family at the moment; it was a pride issue.

Slinging on her jacket she concentrated on the backyard, the only place Ron hadn't thought to stop her yet and landed with a crunch into the blistering cold but completely still Christmas Day afternoon. She crunched across the snow, hugging her pea coat close to her body, and listening to her footsteps echo off for eternity in the near silent blanket of white. The sun was so weak it gave little warmth, just turned everything to almost blinding, and highlighted the near black appearance of the trees as they sagged with snow. She found her way to the back patio and looked out at the uneven bumps near the edge. With a nudge of her boot she kicked at the larger clumps of snow, feeling a moment of nostalgia, when a POP came behind her.

"You were his favorite you know." George lowly said. She turned to him. "It's a big family, so that's really saying something."

"Who's yours?" She quietly asked.

"Ron. But don't tell anyone." He gave her a small grin, grabbed something deep in his pocket and then frowned. "I'm sorry Ginny. I'm sorry about what happened. You shouldn't have had to see that."

"George, you have nothing to apologize for. You didn't make me feel like I had to apologize when I was a mess. You were just there for me, why can't you just let me do that for you? I'm strong now, I want to help you." Ginny took a few crunching steps toward him until they were close enough for her to see the general exhaustion in his eyes.

"You know," he looked out at the tree line, "I don't think anyone can help me now."

"Don't say that." She harshly and quickly responded. George snapped his head back to her and leveled his intense azure eyes at her.

"You just don't get it. Did you talk to Harry?"

"Yes." She softened her voice and looked down at her boots. "He said it never goes away, it just gets easier. He said it was easier because I was around."

"He gets it." George mumbled. "Figured he would. Not like he had much time to deeply bond with each one of them, but…Harry…" George stopped and she looked up to see him swallow, his Adam's Apple bobbing up and down. He hunched deeper into his coat, fiddling with something in his pocket again.

"We just need to find you a me, George. You need someone to help with the burden." She offered, giving him a weak smile to try and encourage it.

"If it were only that easy." George turned away from her and kicked a large chunk of ice across the porch.

"It can be." She pushed and George turned back to face her, looking down at her he took a long swallow before shaking his head,

"There is only one person that I want. And he's never coming back Ginny." His eyes took a desperate, mournful look, and she clenched her hands. "Sometimes I wish he was here so I could ask him…"

"What?" She whispered, her breath breaking around their heads in a thick white cloud.

"Anything, Ginny. Anything." His voice broke, his eyes glazed, and he looked away again. Ginny grabbed him instantly, wrapping her arms tight around his now too thin middle, and bit her tongue as hard as she could to stop the flood of tears that filled her nose and throat. George went to move away and she just hugged him harder. Finally she felt his arms wrap around her as well, grabbing her tighter and tighter until he started to shake.

"George, George, it will be okay." She whispered fast and spread her feet wider to try and hold him up. He shook a little harder and then flicked his wand and a sturdy wood chair appeared next to them. He sat down in it with a thump and a shuttering sigh. He wiped at his face and looked up at her,

"He used to tell me all the time that we all underestimated you. That one day you'd do something so great that no one would ever match it. That you would outshine the both of us."

"Did he?" She felt her mouth twitch with a smile, but tears choked the response into a whisper.

"You just kept surprising him. He would shake his head and say, 'What's she going to come up with next?'" George let out a tiny laugh and wiped the back of his hand under his nose.

"You think I'm surprising him now?" She wiped at her own face, shifting back and forth on her feet.

"Of course. I can hear him…he told me to send you those fireworks." George nodded as he said this. She looked down at the snow, tears blurring her vision. "He told me to write you letters to make sure you didn't break under all that strain at school. He told me to trust Harry." George stopped for a moment, pulled the object out of his pocket and held up the shrunken faucet to her.

"I'm glad you listened." She sniffled.

"Well, he won't shut up. Does that make me crazy?" He smiled.

"No. Just as crazy as I am." She smiled back.

"Fred used to say you were one of a kind. That we had waited so long for a girl that no one would ever be good enough for you. That no one could ever understand you and be man enough to let you be yourself." George leaned forward to grab her hand.

"George," she exhaled. "You don't have to…"

"No," he stopped her. "I think you found someone Ginny. I know Mum and Ron are giving you a hard time right now, but everyone knows." He stopped and smiled one beautiful, familiar, mischievous, old George kind of smile. "Everyone knows that you always get what you want."

"That is a lie." She laughed.

"I want you to be happy Ginny. I know Fred wants you to be happy."

"I am happy." She said through her tears, lifting a hand to brush them away.

"We can never go back to how it was before." He looked out at the trees again. "But I guess you can't be crazy and happy at the same time. So I just can't ask you to stay crazy with me, Ginny."

"Please, George." Her voice choked off at the rush of tears that cropped up again. Why was everyone always pulling away from her?

"No," he met eyes with her again. "This is good. One of us should be sane."

"Both of us are sane, George." She argued, crossing her arms over her chest, trying to trap some of the heat escaping from her thin jacket.

George just gave her a sad, little, half smile and stood up, banishing the chair. He pocketed the faucet and let out a long clouded breath. "If you don't mind, I'd like to put this up in the shop. I don't think it should be wasted at a grave."

"No. I agree." She nodded, and then shivered.

"You should go inside."

"Only if you do." She looked toward the house, windows twinkling with lights and candles, muted noises breaking across the snow toward them.

"I'm not ready for that just yet. Too many prying eyes. Too many questions." He straightened his shoulders.

"But you forget, I'm at the center of this circus. I could always create a diversion for you." She reached out an unmittened hand toward him, her fingernails blue, her hand snow white and slightly shaking.

"Just go inside, Ginny. I'll be back for dinner." He took a step away from her. She dropped her hand, and tried to meet his eyes again, but he kept dodging her glance.

"You better," she ducked her head down to try and get his attention. "Or I'll sick Harry after you."

"I don't want that." He laughed, and then leaned in quickly and pressed a kiss to her hairline before ruffling it up out of its part. It was something only Fred ever did to her and they locked eyes for a moment and then with a POP he was gone. Her body started to convulse in on itself from the cold and the grief and the pain that she felt for her brother. It was just so much, so much undeserved suffering, she shuffled toward the house, making her numb feet move despite her mind's warning to stay outside until she had composed herself.

She reached the door and pressed her back against it, feeling the knob bump into her back and felt the hot tears race down her face, cold and stiff by the time they reached her chin. She took three very large, freezing, breaths and turned back around to open the door. As she pulled it toward her it revealed Ron. He looked at her face, then around her, then back at her face again.

"I thought George was out here with you."

"He left." She swallowed and cleared her throat, thick with tears.

"What happened?" He blocked the doorjamb.

"Nothing." She narrowed her eyes at him, daring him to keep her outside.

"You're crying that's not nothing." Ron crossed his arms over his chest, a flash of goosebumps racing across his forearms.

"You wouldn't understand. You're not one of the family crazies." She snapped and pushed against him.

"Ronald, why are you letting in all this cold air?" Her Mum's annoyed voice came from behind him, opening the door fully, and then everything went still. The three of them had not been in the same room, alone, since the day after the Yule Ball.

"Ginny was out there with George, but she won't tell me why he left." Ron never looked away from her face, she wiped at the remains of her tears and shivered from head to toe.

"She'll catch her death out there." Her Mum admonished and pulled the back of his jumper. Ginny quickly shoved through the small space, her Mum closed the door, and she brushed past both of them on her way out of the kitchen. Their silence stopped her at the doorway and she turned to look at them both, thinking that finally, finally reconciliation would come between them.

But her Mum quickly turned back to her cooking and Ron moved back to the small table to keep peeling potatoes. She didn't know if you could count that as progress, but she took it and made quick work of ripping through her closet and packing away the last of her belongings from her childhood home.

* * *

She had hoped she would have composed herself before he'd made it back to the flat, but she didn't. He found her, sitting in the middle of his unmade bed, the yellow blanket to her left, her old bedspread to her right, and several different formal dresses spread out in front of her. She kept looking between all of them as he quietly made his way to stand in front of her.

"Ginny?" He cautiously asked. She absently wiped at her face, even though all her tears had dried by now, and cleared her still thick throat.

"I can't go back." She said and then pressed her lips together trying to swallow the ball of emotions in her throat.

"We have to go back tonight…for dinner." He gently said placing his hands on top of the dresses.

"No. George, I ran into him outside the Burrow this afternoon. He said…we can never go back to the way it was before. And I barely said two words to Ron and my Mum. And I packed up every thing that was left in my room. And it's over." She looked up at him.

"Love." He started and sat down on the bed, picking up a dress in his hands. "It's not like that. I'm sure this will all be over soon, and your Mum will be complaining about how thin the two of us are, and Ron will be ribbing me for kissing you. It will all be over soon."

"I know that." She nodded and shook her head at his very confused face. "How did you feel when you left your Aunt and Uncle's house for the last time?"

"Oh, Ginny," he shook his head quite a few times, "that's not the same thing."

"But you grew up there. That was your home." She pulled the yellow blanket out from the stack and pulled it around herself.

"Hogwarts was my home." He simply said, and something dark and troubling flicked behind his carefully guarded eyes.

"Then your sixth year, you knew you weren't coming back. How did you feel then?"

"I don't want to sound like I'm trying to argue with you. But…that wasn't the same either." He finished quietly and looked away.

"I just feel so lost. I don't have a home. I could never go back to my parent's house. And this is your flat, not mine. And I'm a term away from leaving Hogwarts forever. How can you ground yourself if you have no where to ground?" She clenched the blanket in her hands.

"There was a moment." He started so quietly she almost didn't hear it, and leaned forward. "After winning the war, but before you passed out in my arms, where I looked around at what was left of Hogwarts. Everything was on fire, entire sections of the castle were missing, and I could hear everyone still rushing around trying to get to all the wounded, and I felt for a single moment…lost. Hermione and Ron were walking in front of me, relief of winning making them look like they were attached at the hip, and I was just hit with this feeling of panic." He stopped and looked up at her, his eyes glassy.

She nodded for him to continue, he loosened his tie a bit, took a deep breath, and continued.

"It was all actually, finally, over. My entire life had lead up to that moment. And then I blinked and it was over, and I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do next. I couldn't find any place to…" he looked deep into her eyes, "ground myself. And then we walked into the Great Hall, and I saw you and I knew, I knew in that very next moment, that it would all be okay as long as you were here."

Her eyes filled with tears again and she put her face in her hands for a moment before miserably saying behind them, "And then I passed out on you."

"Yes." He said and she looked up, because the sheer intensity of his voice explained so much more than the single word. One moment he was ungrounded, the next he had found it in her, and then in the next it started slipping through his fingers again. "I've never had an actual home, Ginny. I lived in a cupboard, and shared a room with your brother, and was willed a house too full of painful memories for me to ever live in. But I had hoped – I _do _hope – that maybe this could be your home. Because it doesn't feel like a home unless you're in it."

"Are you asking me to move in with you?" She wiped at her face and dropped her blanket.

"Yes." He simply said.

"Harry," she responded, stunned.

"I told you before, I'm not going anywhere unless you order me away. I want you, Ginny. I want you to be around me for however much longer I have."

"Why'd you word it like that?" She quickly shot out, Harry actually blushed, and looked away for a moment before turning back to her,

"I want you around me forever." He looked at her for a moment, and then she saw the doubt cross his face and he started to fumble, "I guess that is pretty intense to ask someone, I mean I didn't really plan this out in my head before I…"

She crawled across the bed and pressed her lips to his rambling ones. He relaxed into her kiss and cupped the back of her head, deepening it quickly. She pulled back to breathe and whispered,

"Yes. Me too. I will. I do. Whatever you need to hear, Harry. I'm not going anywhere."

He touched his forehead to her own, and she ran her fingers across his five o'clock shadow, cupping his scratchy jaw in her palm.

"One thing at a time. I bet even showing up tonight is going to make your Mum faint." He smiled and pulled back looking at the bed.

"Yeah, one thing at a time." She nodded and looked down at all the dresses they were sitting on. "Which one?"

"Don't see the Yule Ball one in there." He sifted through the stack and she smacked his arm. "This one is blue. I like you in blue."

"To think if I would have been sorted into Ravenclaw how different our lives would have been." She teased and pulled the dress out from underneath them.

"Not all that different." He grinned and she raised an eyebrow at him, "Just several years earlier."

"You're impossible." She moved toward the bathroom, and heard him call after her,

"And you're making us late."

Author's Notes:

I'm glad we've all made it this far - really I am. And I want to thank everyone that has every helped me in the past 2+ years of writing this story. It's come a long, long way. Funny how the New Year makes you nostalgic. I remember when this story used to be all doom and gloom all the time - man emofest much? But I am grateful for everyone that has stuck around. Your help, comments, PM's, emails, even hits have made me want to keep writing and I can never thank you all enough.

To my editing team - private islands and cases of wine are in order I think.

And here's to the new year - I wish you a happy and safe one, full of new hope, new goals, and new fun. Cheers!


	33. Chapter 33

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 33~

_Maybe in five or ten yours and mine will meet again_

_Straighten this whole thing out_

_Maybe then honesty need not be feared as a friend or an enemy_

_This is the distance _

_And this is my game face_

_Vienna by The Fray_

_

* * *

_

Ginny took a very steadying breath and looked at the front door to The Burrow with a wary glance. Her toes started to freeze in the snow and Harry gave her a little nudge in the back. No point in delaying the hit squad inside, she was sure they were shining their wands as they stood there. She took the final few steps to the front door and swung it open. The heat hit them both with a blast and she almost expected to see steam escaping into the night sky, but instead she saw the table full of food and her dad setting a few bottles of wine down.

"There you are, dear!" He exclaimed and made a wide gesture to invite them both in. She paused just long enough that Harry had to give her a bump in the right direction.

"Happy Christmas, Mr. Weasley," Harry said and offered his hand. Her father instead pulled him into a hug and gave him a bracing pat on the back as Harry stumbled away, slightly stunned.

"Happy Christmas, Dad," Ginny said quietly and her father scooped her up into a very strong hug, squeezing her so tight she felt the air compress in her lungs. "Oxygen."

"Sorry, love," He chuckled. "Come in, come in. Take off your coats. Everyone is in the other room waiting for dinner." He gestured to the living room and she saw Harry give the same curt nod that she did. So apparently this had been the easy part. There was a bubble of laughter and the clinking of glasses. She grabbed Harry's hand and tried to stride as purposefully as she could toward the living room.

They turned the corner and she gripped Harry's hand harder. She was waiting for the awkward silence, the glares, the indifference. She was ready for the fight.

"Ginny!" George called out, jumping up from his seat. Harry moved next to her and Bill lifted his glass.

"And Harry!"

Ginny froze for a moment until George looked down at Hermione, who was taking up two spots,

"Oi, shove over for them."

Bill was sitting in one of the armchairs, Fleur next to him on a conjured fluffy and overly comfortable looking lounge. George and Charlie were sharing the loveseat. Percy and Hermione were sitting on opposite sides of the couch and upon setting eyes on the two of them Percy sat up and moved toward the other armchair. Hermione patted the seat next to her and Ginny tried to push down the feeling of an ambush and moved toward the couch.

"They look like we're going to try and prank them or something," Bill called out and the room erupted in laughter. Harry tugged Ginny's hand and led her toward the couch sitting between her and Hermione.

"Wherever would we get that idea?" Harry deadpanned and it set off another round of laughter.

"Honestly, anyone who could survive that onslaught is worthy in my book," Charlie announced and stood up to pass them both a large glass of mead. "How did you get rid of all those Nifflers?"

"Patience," Ginny offered and tried to contain her laugh, and her blush. She took a long sip of mead and settled into the couch.

"How did you manage to get all the Ministry stamps on that Percy?" Harry leaned over her to ask her brother, resting a hand on her thigh as he did.

"I have my sources." Percy smiled and adjusted his glasses before taking another sip of mead.

"You do know your message is scorched into the floorboards, right Bill?" Ginny called over to her brother.

Bill's head snapped toward his wife. "You told me it would disappear after a day."

"My apologies, I was very ill at zee time." Fleur arched an eyebrow at her husband.

"Much more important, dear." He patted her hand.

"George was about to tell us how he managed his prank," Hermione offered and turned her attention back to George. George took a long sip, basking in the air of anticipation around him before taking a deep breath,

"I can't reveal my sources."

"Oh please!" Ginny called out. "You've had the Peruvian Darkness Powder for years now. I just need to know what you did to hack off the Doxies so bad."

The group exploded with laughter.

"Doxies?" Charlie punched George in the shoulder.

"Wait they were _in_ the Darkness Powder?" Percy shouted over the ruckus. George put his hands up as if to say he wouldn't comment.

"Harry calls out to me in the flat if I had left a sock on his bed. Of course I know this is nothing good." Ginny rolled her eyes and raised her voice over the lingering laughter.

"Sure you're an Auror Harry?" Bill heckled. Harry blushed slightly and took a large slug of mead.

"The next thing I know almost the entire flat is filled with Darkness Powder and Harry is whacking at things in all the chaos."

"George! That was dangerous!" Hermione turned an astonished look from Ginny to George. George smiled over his glass at the two of them.

"He finally manages to crawl out toward the clean air, we've both been bitten by those little buggers, and suddenly it all gets sucked back into the sock like a hurricane had ripped through the flat."

"Whirlwind charm?" Percy asked. George nodded. "Very impressive."

"It all ends with an almost blinding flash of light that left the entire flat covered in Darkness Powder. You should have seen Harry." Ginny finished with a little laugh. "Imagine this," She ran a hand through his hair. "But covering all of him."

"Oh dear." Hermione gave her friend a pat and the group dissolved into laughter again. Ginny took another long sip of mead, the feeling of anxiety unraveling in her stomach, and snuggled closer to Harry.

"I have to admit, it was all quite impressive." Harry lifted his glass to the group. "But you're going to have to try harder than that to rattle me."

"Told you I should have sent him a dragon," Charlie said to George and George almost spit his drink out. Fleur let out a bubble of laughter and Ginny's smile was so big, her cheeks were burning.

"Dinner's ready."

The group all turned to see Ron standing in the doorway looking rather disgruntled.

"Perfect!" Bill clapped, jumping up to assist Fleur. George and Charlie had a bit of a shoving match to see who would get up first. As Ginny went to stand, she caught Ron staring very hard at the back of Harry's head before he promptly turned and went back into the kitchen.

Ginny stood and looked down at Hermione, and her friends' mouth opened to start an explanation but Fleur put a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "You must tell me all about your first term."

"Oh." Ginny looked back at Harry who was having some kind of silent eye conversation with Hermione. "Not much to report."

Hermione let out a loud snort at Ginny's comment and the group turned to look at Hermione.

"I'm sorry but that's the understatement of the century."

"Let Harry and Ginny fill us in on all their gossip at dinner." Bill smiled and put an arm around Fleur's shoulders, leading her out toward the dining room. Ginny swallowed hard and darted a glance over at Harry. He shook his head ever so slightly and she nodded back just as discreetly.

Hermione hung back with the two of them in the living room and turned to face them, her eyes giving Harry some kind of look that Ginny knew had to mean something and Harry shrugged.

"English!" Ginny hissed.

"Just…" Hermione started and looked over her shoulder as if expecting Ron to materialize. She wasn't disappointed. Ron crossed his arms over his chest and stood there.

"One of these days the three of you will have to let me in on that secret _eye_ language you speak," Ginny grumbled and pushed past the three of them into the dining room. Harry was quick on her heels and the second they both took their seats Fleur leaned over her plate and quickly drew Harry into conversation. "'Arry, you must tell me all about Collette Badeau. She 'as been an idol of mine since I was a little girl."

"Collette's great." Harry smiled and shifted nervously in his seat. Fleur continued to stare him down.

"She's much more beautiful in person," Ginny picked up. "Honestly, I don't think the woman has ever had a bad hair day."

"Oh," Fleur leaned back in her chair with a smile playing across her lovely glowing face. "There was always speculation that she was part Veela. But I never believed it. They say that is why she is so successful in zee field."

"That's not true," Harry quickly shot and Ginny relaxed back in her seat. All he needed was a reason to defend his partner and the stories would come spilling out. "She's brilliant, much smarter than I am. There was this one time when we were hiding out in this abandoned building, beginning of winter, snow everywhere…"

The whole table leaned forward, abandoning their drinks, and at the exact moment that Harry took a breath to continue Ron and her Mum entered with the rest of the plates floating between them. There was an awkward pause of silence. "Well done! Well done!" George called out. He banged on the table with his silverware a few times. All the brothers quickly following suit.

"Enough." Her mum said behind a smirk.

The food was set down and then quickly passed around between everyone. After a few sips of wine or firewhiskey everyone turned to Mr. Weasley expectantly.

"Happy Christmas. I'm so glad to have all of you here. Can't think of a better way to spend the holiday. Dig in."

Ginny took a small sip of her wine and cautiously looked around the table. Everything had been going so well without Ron and her mum around. Was it all about to fall apart again now that they were part of the group? She honestly hadn't expected to have things go this smoothly. The lingering anger and fight she had prepared herself for was making her fidgety now that she didn't have to use it. Harry seemed a little on edge as well, picking at his food a bit before taking a forkful of potatoes. The two of them couldn't tell if he was supposed to continue his story or not and Ginny chanced a glance at Fleur who was pushing her food around a bit.

So apparently nothing had changed. As long as her mum and Ron weren't around everything was okay, but they quickly jumped sides in their presence. It was horribly frustrating and Ginny took a long gulp of wine to try and calm herself down. After a few minutes of silence and several shifty glances went around the table, something very unexpected happened.

"I'm sorry Molly, but I 'ave been dying to 'ear 'Arry's stories about Collette. We don't see him zat often and I know e'll be busy with all zee trials soon." Fleur addressed the table and then shifted laser like focus on Harry. "You were in an abandoned building…"

Harry blanched. Ginny froze, and everyone looked over at her mum and Ron for a moment. Ron immediately looked down at his plate, but her mum's eyes glazed over and she gave a tiny nod before paying unnecessary attention to her goblet. Harry gave a worried sideways glance, but she just shrugged. It turned out the fight she thought she was about to have with her whole family was only really with her mum and Ron. Not only that, but the rest of the family didn't seem to mind much about all that had happened between her and Harry. Something made Ginny feel like there was something missing. Maybe George hadn't told everyone what had transpired in Harry's flat after the Yule Ball. But honestly, at this point, she'd take what she could get. She gave Harry's thigh a squeeze and smiled.

"Well," Harry cleared his throat, "I was about to just throw out a few stunners and see who might shoot back."

"Typical Harry." George laughed and stabbed up some green beans. Hermione laughed and Harry visibly relaxed.

"But she gave me a quick smack to the back of the head and sent out a revealing charm, showing us exactly where the Death Eater was hiding. She's quite clever." Harry finished.

"And apparently a helpless romantic," Ginny added and cut up some of her turkey. Fleur's face lit up and she set down her silverware to give Ginny and Harry her full attention,

"You must explain."

"Tell her the quote, Harry." Ginny smiled and looked over at him. He immediately gave a few shakes of his head.

"You must! Please." Fleur implored.

"Most of the time she translated everything into English for me, but this one quote she kept saying in French and would grumble it at me often in these past few weeks." Harry causally said, but she knew he also saw Hermione and Ron pale a bit on the opposite side of the table. "_On n'aime que ce qu'on ne possède pas tout entier."_

Fleur immediately sucked in a dramatic breath and put a fluttering hand to her chest, blinking furiously.

"Love?" Bill put a hesitant hand to her shoulder. The whole table looked back and forth between Harry and Fleur.

"Zee's damn 'ormones!" Fleur dabbed at her eyes with her napkin.

"I'm sure I butchered the French," Harry quickly amended.

"What does it mean?" Hermione asked. Dinner stopped. Bill was rubbing Fleur's shoulder as she tried to compose herself.

"We love only what we do not wholly possess." Harry looked over at Ginny.

There was a long pause; only Fleur's sniffling broke through.

"That's lovely," Hermione swallowed quite hard and choked out, then immediately stood up and tossed her napkin at her seat. "Excuse me."

"Hermione," Ginny called after her but she kept moving out toward the back patio. There was another pause and then George leaned over Hermione's empty seat and slugged Ron hard in the shoulder.

"This is your bloody chance you daft bugger."

Ron tossed his napkin at the table and pushed off without another word to the family. The back door to the porch swung shut behind him.

"She also makes lovely coffee," Ginny meekly offered and her Dad let out a long laugh.

"Percy, why don't you tell us what it's like working for Kingsley?" Her Dad offered and the table visibly relaxed and settled into polite work talk and second helpings of Christmas dinner.

To say that dinner was stressful was an understatement. Despite her father continuing to steer conversation back toward safe topics, each sibling took their turn trying to ask Ginny or Harry a question that would unravel the little control that existed. Ron and Hermione had both come back in red cheeked and looking miserable, that was another thing that was brushed over, and Ginny found that everyone was limited to telling just one story at a time to ensure stability. It was awkward and jumpy, not at all the warm bubbly chaos of Christmas' past. But she would take it. All her family was sitting at a table with her and Harry and there wasn't a single hex thrown.

But as her mum and dad cleared the table of all the dessert plates the day still felt uneven and unfulfilled to her. Her mum had barely said anything throughout the whole dinner other than quick smiles and thank you's about the compliments on the food. Absently Ginny ran her finger down the unbreakable chain, and then wrapped it around her finger, making the sapphire pop out from underneath her dress and bounce against her chest. Playing with her new necklace she tried to think about how she could possibly speak to her mum without it turning into a screaming match when Hermione noticed her necklace.

"Ginny, that's beautiful."

"Excuse me?" Ginny looked around herself and down at her dress. Hermione stood and moved right up next to her, gently pulling the chain off of her finger.

"This is stunning," Hermione exclaimed again and Ginny noticed Fleur's attention peak as well.

"Christmas present from Harry," Ginny offered and smiled at Harry, who was in the middle of a Quidditch conversation with Charlie and George. "It was his Mum's."

A plate clattered to the floor, all conversation stopped and they turned to look at her mum who was staring directly at her chest. She took a big breath and then promptly turned and darted back into the kitchen.

"Mum," Ginny called after her and rose up from her chair. She pushed through her frozen family and chased after her into the kitchen. As the door swung shut behind her Ginny took in her mother, hunched over the sink, piles of dishes around her being magically scrubbed and put away. Ginny took a few steps toward her, her heels clinking against the floor. Her mum stood up straight and wiped at her face a moment before picking up a dish and starting to scrub it.

"Please, say something to me," Ginny quietly begged and saw her mum's shoulder's tense. Her scrubbing stopped for a moment, and then she took a breath but didn't turn around.

"Your dress is lovely."

Ginny tried not to get mad at the throw away comment. It was as if she were the mature one in the conversation.

"You did make it for me." Ginny attempted the flattery, but her mum didn't bite.

"I found some of your laundry in the wash. I left it by the front door for you."

Ginny let her head roll back onto her shoulders and she let out a long breath. This was going to be impossible.

"Fine." She shrugged and turned to leave. "Happy Christmas."

"I know that necklace," Her mum said. Ginny stopped and turned around.

"How?"

"The Potter's have a very long wizarding history. It's an enchanted necklace. It glows more brilliantly depending on…" Her mum dropped off and Ginny quickly moved across the kitchen to stand right next to her. Molly refused to look over and Ginny stuck her hand in the middle of the running water and pushed the soapy dish out of her mum's hands and into the water.

"Tell me. Do you remember this on his Mum? What does it do?"

"I believe I saw it once, in a picture, on Lily. But necklaces like that used to be in vogue around sixty years ago." Molly rinsed her hands off under the water and moved to sort some of the dried dishes, evading her again. Ginny felt her patience run out in that very moment and put a hand on her mum's arm and with a tug made her turn back toward her, and finally face her.

"Please, tell me."

Molly took a deep breath and looked away for a moment before settling her unflinchingly honest eyes on.

"The necklace is enchanted to glow brighter and more brilliantly depending on the love of the giver."

"But I can't see that. It just looks like a necklace." Ginny looked down at the unassuming sapphire. Her mum put a hand on her shoulder and Ginny immediately looked back up,

"That's the point dear. A man gives it to a woman to show the _world_ how much he loves her."

"Oh," Ginny scrunched up her face in worry for a moment. "So how does mine look?"

"It's almost blinding, love." Her mum smiled, and Ginny felt an overwhelming urge to burst into tears. Her mum swept her into a tight hug, squeezing her to her chest and Ginny tried to hug her back as hard as she could, making her arms burn with the effort. She felt a few tears plunk down onto the crown of her head and let a few slip out against her mother's dress.

"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have been so rude." Ginny sniffled and continued to clutch her mum.

"Love, love, I'm sorry. I should let you live your own life. You're seventeen." Her mum sniffled and released her, taking a step back and putting her hands on Ginny's cheeks. "I am far too protective of you."

"S'okay," Ginny managed through her constricted cheeks. Molly let her go and wiped at her face again before setting a stern look at her.

"I still don't agree with what you are doing. You are far too young to be staying anywhere but here. You don't want an unwanted pregnancy stifling all your career plans. Or worse – you don't want to be the _pregnant girl_ at Hogwarts Ginny, even if Harry is the father." Her mum tutted.

"I…" Ginny started and choked on her response. She felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Of course Mum."

"I just think that you need to weigh all your options, dear. You could have spent just as much time with Harry if you were here. And I would be making sure you were keeping up with your schoolwork and training for the Harpies. You can't be flying over there in Diagon Alley." Her mum continued and crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes.

Ginny couldn't help it. She smiled and started laughing. She had thought she wanted reconciliation with her mum, with lots of hugging and apologizing, but in the end this was exactly what she wanted. She wanted her mum yelling at her in the kitchen and putting her in her place, almost like nothing had ever happened. The door slowly cracked open and Harry's dark head poked in hesitantly.

"And you!" Her mum called out and Harry froze in the doorway. "Well get in here!" Her mum called over to her and Harry dutifully shuffled in.

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley?" He cautiously asked. Ginny could not hear a single thing on the other side of the door and she prayed that it was because of a silencing charm, but she doubted it.

"I hope that the present you have for my daughter this year is a ring. It is highly improper for the two of you to be carrying on like that without being married. This necklace is beautiful and very telling, but nothing says proper and responsible like a wedding."

"Mum, he's eighteen!" Ginny called over her mum's ranting and Mrs. Weasley turned her attention back to Ginny,

"I was ready to marry your father as I was going into my second term of Hogwarts in my final year. I am just thinking of your reputation Ginevra. Think of what all those horrible tabloids are going to say when you start your Harpy training and Harry is hanging about all the time. Harlot. That's what they'll say!" Her mum's cheeks flushed with the fever of her rant and Ginny felt Harry move closer to her right as the door swung open again to reveal her father.

"Now Molly, you know that's not true."

All hope of this being a private verbal lashing went right out the window and she saw Harry deflate at the same time she did. As the door swung shut she could see George barely containing his laugh at the dinner table.

"Honestly, Arthur I can't be quite about this. I know you told me to be patient but this is just out of the question improper."

"If I remember correctly the second term of your final year at Hogwarts was spent mostly at my flat on Hogsmeade weekends." Her dad playfully added and Ginny felt her mouth drop open. She was a moment away from calling her mum a hypocrite when Harry grabbed her hand quickly and strongly, almost crushing it. Right - mouth bodyguard. She quickly snapped her mouth shut and the kitchen door banged open and George jumped into the kitchen.

"Please – you must tell us more." He begged and everyone started laughing.

"Absolutely not," Her mum huffed, bright red and turned back to her dishes. Her dad gave a small nod of his head toward the door and Harry and Ginny made a break for it, pushing George out with them. The distinct pop of a silencing charm set the group of them into another fit of laughter.

"I always knew there was some bad math involved with your birthday Bill." Charlie nudged his brother and Fleur started laughing loudly.

"Should we be doing the math on my nephew?" George quickly shot in. Harry let out a loud laugh.

"What makes you think it's a boy?" Hermione quickly added.

"Have you seen our family Hermione?" George gave her a loaded glance. Hermione just smiled and picked up her wine glass as Ron stood up and made his way for the stairs.

"Night everyone. Happy Christmas." He called over his shoulder and all the joy and laughter evaporated from the room. Ginny tried to look at the crumbs on the tablecloth because she knew in that moment that all eyes were on her and Harry.

"Well, guess that marks the end of dinner." Bill broke the tension and stood up from the table, summoning his and Fleur's coats from the front door. Charlie and Percy stood as well and made their way toward the kitchen to say their goodbyes. Percy was the first to go in, Charlie following, and then the two of them stumbled back out into the dining room.

"Don't go in there." Percy ran a nervous hand through his hair. George chuckled and propped his feet up on the table tipping back in his chair.

"Having a bit of the Hogsmeade weekend in there, eh?"

"And on that note," Bill gave a knowing look at his brother and wrapped his arm around Fleur, with a slight nod and pop they were gone.

"Always the entrances and exits with him," Charlie grumbled and buttoned his jacket. "Happy Christmas." He gave a slight turn and Disapparated as well.

"Always good to see you Harry." Percy stuck out his hand and Harry awkwardly shook his hand before Percy took off.

"Weird one, he is," George commented over his glass and finished off his shot of firewhiskey. "I'm going to need a Doxie back that you're keeping hostage. I rented it."

"Never. I've named it." Ginny crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'll send you the bill then." George winked and tipped back in his chair until he was almost about to fall and vanished before her eyes.

"Show off." Ginny huffed and turned her gaze back to the now empty dining room, sans, of course, for Hermione. Ginny sat down across from her and Harry leaned against her chair, all three of them seeming to know that something needed to be said but not knowing where to start.

"Did you like your camera Harry?" Hermione miserably asked and Ginny shook her head and pushed a basket of bread out of the way to have an unobstructed view of Hermione.

"What is going on with you and Ron?"

"I really," Hermione closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, "don't want to talk about it."

"I have no problem attacking him, you know that right? I honestly think he needs a good smacking." Ginny offered. Harry put a hand on her shoulder.

"Is there anything we can do?" He asked.

"I don't know if it will really matter. I've given him an ultimatum." Hermione answered still keeping her eyes closed and leaning over the table.

"Oh no." Ginny felt the words tumble from her lips and everything rumbled in her gut, her dinner and dessert churning with worry.

"Hermione," Harry exhaled. Hermione abruptly shot up and straightened her shoulders.

"I don't lecture the two of you on your relationship. Maybe you should keep your judgments to yourself."

"We're not judging you. We just don't want you to make a mistake on our behalf." Ginny quickly corrected. "Please tell me you didn't give him an ultimatum because of us."

Hermione looked away and Ginny felt a stabbing in her gut. She internalized the groan she knew was dying to get out.

"You're going to destroy him," Harry quietly said and Hermione took a shaky breath. "I am not worth that Hermione."

"He's willing to throw away everything. _Everything_ we went through because he thinks you aren't right for Ginny? It's insulting. It's demeaning. We suffered through so much, for so _long_, and he's going to disregard everything because of one argument? I just…can't. I can't." Hermione fumed and angrily wiped at her tears.

"No, no, no," Ginny flew out of her chair and moved over to Hermione, hunching over until she felt like she was close enough and put both hands on her friend's shoulders, "I will not let this happen. Ron can hex me into next year if he has to, but if you and Ron aren't meant for each other than nothing in the world makes sense Hermione."

"Oh please," Hermione exhaled, tears clouding her eyes. "You two have the great love affair, not Ron and I." She waved a dismissive hand and Ginny looked over at Harry quickly before squeezing Hermione's shoulders tighter.

"What madness are you talking about? No one should follow the example Harry and I have made. Are you trying to tell me that you bitch slapping Malfoy, and taking a world famous Quidditch player to the Yule Ball, and enduring the endless gag worthy syrup that was Lavender, and being the entire and uncontrollable reason my brother found the two of you in the whole of England last year isn't an all consuming love story?"

"Ginny," Hermione let out a little hiccup of sadness.

"Hermione you have the best love story out of all of us! Seven years! Seven years! You can't throw away seven years because Ron is mad at Harry. Ron will continue to get mad at Harry until they are very old men. Because I know my brother, and as much as I want to strangle him for being so bloody daft, he is part of something so incredible I can't ever touch it. And that incredible thing is the friendship between the three of you. It's legendary. You can't throw that away Hermione. You just can't." Ginny finished and swallowed hard not realizing how strongly she felt about this. She took a very big breath trying to steady herself and Hermione looked up at her, eyes shinning with tears and nodded.

Ginny released her and took a step back as Hermione quickly moved up the stairs. Watching her go Ginny fanned her eyes a bit, hoping to stop the tears that were itching at the back of her throat, when she felt Harry grab her around her waist and pull her tight against him, landing kiss after kiss to her shoulder.

"You're amazing," He whispered to the thin blue strap of her dress.

"No, I'm just trying to be a good friend," She whispered back.

"If it's any consolation I think you're an excellent addition to our legendary friendship." Harry ran his nose across her shoulder and landed a soft kiss on her neck.

"You're kind for trying to pacify me, but I wasn't lying. There will always be the three of you and then me." Ginny smiled and then turned around in his arms and looked deep into his bottle green eyes. "And I'm totally fine with that."

"Marry me." Harry smirked.

"No." Ginny smiled back and with the smallest spin they went flying back to his flat. It was a tumbling kind of landing, pressed close against Harry's chest, their feet tangled, she let out a small laugh, and he seemed to squeeze her closer before righting the two of them. With a small flick of his wand the house started to warm and light around the two of them and Ginny felt a small buzz flood through her down to her toes. She hadn't realized just how much she had drank at The Burrow, but apparently she was a nervous drinker.

Harry continued to stand there, in the middle of the dining room, holding her close and she looked up to see him looking at her with serious eyes, detailing the moment, searing it into his memory.

"And why is this night so important to remember forever?" She smiled up at him. Keeping one hand securely wrapped around her waist he took the other one to gently move some hair off her shoulder and answered,

"Hopefully this is the only time you'll tell me no."

She felt the smirk pull across her face again and pressed her lips together in thought for a moment, feeling heady and near swooning at how unbelievably handsome he looked in the low lights of the flat, and let out a small breath before saying,

"Depends on what you're asking really."

He was looking directly at her lips and the blush flushed across her cheeks,

"Think we could maybe…" He lifted an eyebrow at her and looked past her toward their bedroom. Ginny opened her mouth to immediately tell him no, just to be playful, when his head dipped down and his lips brushed softly against her own. The wine and mead swirled in her stomach and she felt it burn out through her body, erasing the shyness she was feeling because of how bold he was being.

Her hands inched up to his hair, always the first thing she wanted to touch, and she made sure to scratch his scalp just a little bit as she raked her fingers through the thick black. Harry smiled against her mouth and pressed harder into the kiss. One hand traveled up her back, wrapping his fingers up in her falling curls, the other slid out toward her hip and then started moving up and down the curve between her ribs and waist. He pulled back for a breath and she pressed closer to him in response. It was a simple move but one that, by now, would send a simple kiss spiraling into something much deeper quickly.

The hand that was innocently playing with the curled ends of her hair moved toward her other hip and started running up and down her curves. She dropped her roaming fingers down below the collar of his shirt and pulled him back down to her lips again as she felt his hands slip down from her hips to curve around her backside and give a quick rub before moving back up. A little bubble of laughter sneaked out as she took a breath.

"What?" He whispered moving his attention to her cheek and toward her ear.

"So cautious about my backside. No one is watching us." She whispered back and tilted her head so he had better access. Harry wasted no time. The building five o'clock shadow scratched lightly at her neck and the lust kicked on in her stomach. She would have never thought she would be into a beard but there was something so entirely manly about the scruff that would rub against the delicate skin of her neck. His hands swooped down and grabbed her more firmly this time. She shifted around in his hands a little and moved her own hands down toward his belt.

Harry groaned into the juncture of her neck and shoulder, she felt teeth bite down just the slightest, she felt her body flush, and suddenly all the playful flirting they seemed to be doing was becoming annoying. She wanted him, now, at that exact moment, and a thump of need vibrated through her. She started pushing him back toward the dining room table, the two of them shuffling together until he hit hard against it, the wood scraping across the floor.

Harry broke off for a moment, startled by the noise, eyes so dilated she could barely see the green, hair wild across his forehead, and panting. Her hands immediately started for his shirt, tugging at his tie, leaving it for dead when it didn't comply and then going straight for the buttons. Her fingers fumbled a bit as another flash of lust fired through her system. Harry picked up on her urgency and managed to get the tie off, tossing it and his glasses to the far side of the table. Wands clinked against the wood of the table and then his hands were on her. He pulled her close again, bumped up against the table and let out a frustrated grumble. Without warning he spun her around, lifted her off the ground and set her down with a bit of a thump. It set a jolt of pleasure through her and she couldn't stop the small gasp that came out.

"Oh, Ginny," he nearly growled and slipped his hand past her knee and up the outside of her thigh. With a little nudge he pushed between her legs and pulled her flush against him again. He ducked down slightly to start frantically kissing her: the juncture of her jaw and ear, down her neck, leaving another small bite to her shoulder, across her collarbones.

She frantically started trying for his buttons again, needing to be able to touch him, but her fingers wouldn't comply and in a final act of desperation she grabbed either side and just yanked. Buttons flew, the shirt ripped, and Harry stopped only for a moment to give her a very sexy little smirk, she looked at him through her lashes and immediately ran her hands down his chest toward his belt pulling the shirt out once she reached her destination.

His other hand made the very quick journey up her dress and then started running across her thigh, moving toward the inside and stroking closer and closer to her panties. When his fingers brushed over the very sensitive part of her she felt her stomach clench and instinctively grabbed hard on his belt and tugged. He slammed into the table, it screeched across the floor, and pressed harder against the fabric of her panties. She felt a roll of lust clench within her and let the low groan of breath vibrate between them.

Just as she thought she could catch her breath Harry released his hands, she frowned at the loss of his touch, he grabbed her hands and threw them around his neck and growled,

"Hold on."

She tightened her arms around him and he lifted her up with one arm, and the other darted a hand up her dress and quickly ripped her panties off. She didn't need direction after that, she fumbled for his zipper and wrapped a leg around his waist pulling him closer. He made one adjustment, wrapped an arm around her again, and impatiently pushed her dress up toward her hips. Ginny held her breath in anticipation and with a small tug to get her bum toward the end of the table she felt him tease her opening. Slowly she fell back onto the table, letting out a long breath as he filled her, and paused for a moment. She couldn't stop the pulsing against him, and felt her eyes close as the edge of her orgasm already started to form just from him filling her need.

Harry grabbed her other hip and then pulled out slowly before meeting back up with her, the table shifted, they both let out a hard breath, and then she wrapped her other leg around his waist. He tried to go for another slow pull and she begged in a harsh whisper,

"Bloody faster, please!"

He slammed into her and a shock of pleasure bucked through her. She grabbed the edge of the table above her and held on. His hand raced down the curves of her chest, the dip of her side and finally up and down her hip and then he started to pump into her. It was still a little too slow for her at first and she let out a groan of frustration and begged again,

"Please, Merlin, please."

Her body shook, she clenched around him, and Harry let out a groan, grabbed her legs to make her hold on him stronger, dipped his head, and went to work sliding in and out of her quicker than he ever had before, and with such force she could hear the table move by small increments with each thrust. His hands wrapped around her hips, holding her in place as he continued to pound into her, and she felt it start to build at the back of her mind. She started to loose the details of the ceiling, her eyes refused to open, her arms started to shake from the exertion. She crossed her ankles behind his back, pulling him even deeper into her and Harry started cussing,

"Shit, Ginny. Christ…"

The blackness behind her eyes grew, her blood started to thrum through her body, her breath caught once in her throat and she felt it all build again. She didn't think it was possible to be this turned on and not spontaneously combust. Harry's fingers bit into her side he was holding her so tight, and it caused her to dig a heel into his lower back. He broke a hand free to run down her sides again and then the table gave a lurch backward. It only took him a second to pick back up and her hips instinctively arched up, his arm darted behind the small of her back, he pulled her arse clear off the table continuing to slam into her, and a shaking started in the bottom of her lungs.

Like wildfire it ripped up her chest, spread out across her back, and flooded down toward her center, everything in her vision went white, her ears thundered with blood, blocking out even the smallest sound, her breath caught, and caught, and caught again, time stopped for three seconds of delicious agony, and then she shuttered from fingers to toes and started babbling. She had no idea what she was saying, words were flowing from her lips, her body was shaking uncontrollably in his hands, her hands simply let go, she felt her head drag against the table, and then finally took a breath. Her lungs burned and she sucked in another breath, deep and raspy, the white behind her eyes started to dim, her body continued to shake and her ears let up enough to hear Harry murmuring things fast and hot against her stomach. She had no idea he had dropped his head against her and flopped a numb hand onto his sweaty locks.

Harry pressed deeper into her, she felt him expand, then his hands and arms started to shake and the table slammed against the wall as he let out one long groan against the satin of her dress. As he shook above her, her body gave another huge shutter, and then it was too much. Each press against her felt like a live wire and she tried to move away from him pulling at his hair and stuttering,

"No…much…too…stop."

He immediately pulled out and she sucked a breath through her teeth and let go of his hair, dropping her still shaking legs from around his waist. Her legs hung numb off the edge, her arms were like wet noodles, splayed across the table, and she took another deep breath.

"God you're gorgeous." Harry whispered and ran a hand down her side, it caused her to jump and finally open her eyes, everything blurry for a moment. She tried to give him a small smile but all she could manage was the upturn of one corner of her mouth. She knew her feet were going numb hanging off the side of the table but she didn't care. She realized she would never be able to look at their dinner table in the same way ever again and that thought made her smirk. A Death Eater could have appeared in the fireplace and she would have been defenseless, leaving all the work to Harry. Her body warmed with the deep, carnal release it had just been given and she closed her eyes again feeling the delicious pull of sleep. She didn't care that she was about to fall asleep on the table; she just hoped that Harry would move her before anyone showed up to the flat.

"Love?" Harry's voice filled her mind and she cracked open an eye. Had he been talking to her this whole time? She didn't know, she couldn't comprehend words anymore. Harry let out a small laugh and then scooped her up off the table and started moving toward the bedroom. It only took a moment and then she was lost deep in a sea of gray and warmth. Harry settled in next to her, she rolled toward him, snuggling flush to his side and buried her face in his shoulder. He ran a hand up and down her arm and then whispered,

"Are you alright?"

"I don't know." She forced out through her numb lips. Then a smile cracked across her face and she made herself open her eyes and look into his own. "But I do know one thing."

"What's that?" He asked and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"I'm never letting anyone know just how good you are at that."

Harry let out a loud laugh and squinted a look at her before asking,

"And why's that?"

"It'll start the next great Wizarding war. Women everywhere will kill each other for a chance to have their world absolutely destroyed by you."

"There is no way…" Harry started, his voice bouncing with laughter.

"I will take an unbreakable vow right now, I'm that serious." She interjected and then relaxed deeper against him, closing her eyes and breathing deeply that unique scent of him that made her heart expand every time.

"Should I be flattered?" Harry continued to laugh and ran a hand through her hair.

"You should be canonized." Ginny mumbled against his skin and felt him shake with quiet laughter.

Her eyes slipped shut, heavy from exhaustion, and she let herself be lulled towards sleep by the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear and the steady rise and fall of his bare chest. He filled her senses and she felt her heart swell with the feelings of safety and contentment that came from being in his arms.

She felt him tighten his hold on her as he shifted their bodies further into the bed and dimly registered the warm press of his lips to her forehead where they lingered for several long moments before he whispered softly into her hair,

"I love you, Ginny. So much."

In response she smiled softly up at him and then slowly tilted her head and brushed a kiss across the fading oval scar just above his heart and nuzzled deeper into his body where at last the call of sleep was far too great for her exhausted body and she sank deeply into the darkness, the both of them still in their Christmas clothes and all the lights burning through the house.

* * *

A very loud hoot rang out through the room and Ginny shot up like a Snitch into a sitting position on the bed. Her bleary eyes darted around the room and she finally spotted Harry's new bird, Ronda, perched on his dresser and eyeing her and Harry. She let out another loud hoot and Harry grabbed the free pillow that Ginny had created and tossed it toward his bird, throwing an arm over his eyes against the afternoon light filling the room with golden sparkles. The owl riffled her feathers around in indignation and then hooted loudly again before shaking the letter free from her leg and swooping out of the room.

"Oh she's going to draw blood the next letter you get." Ginny giggled to herself and looked down at the still lying Harry.

"I'd like to see her try." Harry grumbled and rolled onto his back. He was still in his dress slacks and ripped shirt, Ginny looked down at her formal dress and let out another laugh.

"I gather you couldn't get me out of my dress after I passed out?"

"Honestly," Harry removed his arm and leveled a smoky hunter shot of green at her, "you exhausted me."

Ginny threw her head back and laughed loudly, her voice echoing out into the apartment. "Have I managed to exhaust the tireless Harry Potter?"

"That's Saint Potter to you." He corrected with a grin and they both started laughing. When she had settled down into giggles Ginny pushed herself up to her knees and crawled over Harry to get to the dresser. The scroll must have been important for Ronda to wake them up. Her feet stung on the ice-cold floor and she hopped from foot to foot as she broke open the scroll. The groan immediately fell from her mouth and she tossed it back at the dresser.

"They will have to pry me out of this bed if they expect me in court the day after Christmas." Harry groaned to the ceiling. Ginny hopped her way back across the floor and landed with a thump at the edge of the bed, barely missing landing on Harry.

"Nope," she shook her head and fell back onto the thick comforter. "Even better. I get to be tortured by Jenna for an hour."

"You scheduled it for the day after Christmas?" Harry propped himself up on his elbows and gave her an incredulous look.

"Let's not rehash the frame of mind I was in during my last week before the break." Ginny narrowed her eyebrows at him and let out a dramatic sigh.

"I get first shower." Harry announced and jumped out of bed. Ginny sat up and called after his hopping form,

"You're coming?"

"Of course I am." He smiled and shook his head like it was a silly question, and then ducked into the bathroom. Ginny fell back onto the bed and groaned. Lovely, now it was going to be even more awkward.

* * *

Author's Note:

I know this took an age and a half to get out - but things didn't go so smoothly for me as I would have hoped during the holidays. Needless to say everything was put on hold for a bit - but if you've stuck around this long you know that I promised to finish it. And we are just one chapter away now. Which is written, and is just waiting on some final edits before posting. So have no fear readers! This will have a completed listing soon. :)

Quidditchmum - My deep thanks for taking the time out of your busy schedule to help me. It really does mean a lot to me and I am still forever grateful for everything you've done.

To my personal rockstar, Shades of Sunshine - Forever in debt to you and the awesome that you ooze at every point. This chapter is all you - and if anyone wants to give any extra thanks it should be to Shades of Sunshine for continuing to help and support and get this chapter up and running. She should be particularly highlighted for writing a certain touching passage between Ginny and Harry after their fun little tabletop romp. )

To any of you reading and reviewing - Thank you. Nothing helps me get through the soul-sucking day that can be my job like someone telling me they liked the chapter. It really is like a chocolate to me.

Lastly - my thoughts and prayers going to the people of Japan. If you've lived in SoCal (like me) you know the dangers of fault lines, and you always live with a tiny bit of fear at the back of your brain that the worst case scenario is going to go down. I have made a point to donate to the Red Cross - and should you also feel so inclined I'm sure they will need all the help they can get. Everyone - Stay safe, stay strong, and good luck.


	34. Chapter 34

**Ghost of You**

~Chapter 34~

_I am not afraid to keep on living_

_I am not afraid to walk this world alone_

_Honey if you stay, I'll be forgiven_

_Nothing you could say can stop me going home_

_Famous Last Words by My Chemical Romance_

* * *

Ginny was up on the hospital bed Harry was on the only chair in the room, both of them jumpy with the anxiety of being back in the hospital together. Usually it meant some kind of head trauma disaster had befallen Ginny again, warranting Harry sleeping in a chair.

Ginny would have taken head trauma over what she felt was about to go down in this session with Jenna. Right before she had left for school she'd had one last session that included Jenna telling her that she was so close to healing that she was optimistic of a full recovery. Ginny had rolled her eyes, then and now – you don't spend the better part of a year trying to convince everyone that you are sane and then suddenly get better. She was just hoping for a blue strip. She'd take a blue strip in stride, although if it were green she thought she might actually dissolve with shame at how little progress she thought she had made.

The addition of Harry, nearly humming with anxiety, was not helping. He was trying to hide how nervous he was but she could see the slow building panic in his eyes. She didn't know if it was solely for the outcome of her exam or because of the long, ugly, history the two of them had here. She banked on it being an even mixture of both. Ginny kicked her feet up, back and forth, and Harry kept trying to grab the cuff of her trousers.

"Stop it." She hissed at him, swinging her legs again.

"Stop fidgeting." He argued back and took another swat at her leg.

"I don't know what you're so nervous about, you're not the one about to be dissected and prodded." Ginny swung her legs up onto the bed and crossed them, making them out of his grasp. She ran her finger down the chain of her necklace, popping the stone out onto her sweater and ran it back and forth across the chain.

"In case you don't remember I'm not that fond of hospitals of _any_ kind." Harry crossed his arms and sat back.

"At least you had physical reasons to be there." Ginny huffed and the door swung wide to reveal her favorite Ravenclaw.

"Miss Weasley," Jenna smiled and then her eyes took in Harry, widened for only a moment and then she turned her smile to him as well, "and Mr. Potter."

"Jenna." Ginny smiled back and let her feet drop. "Let's just get to it then."

"Of course." Jenna swung her wand in a quick slash and all the machines behind Ginny started to whirl and puff into life. Jenna stuck a strip to her forehead and took a step back giving a very long look at Harry.

"Should I go?" Harry cautiously asked under Jenna's unwavering look. Jenna turned to Ginny and gave her a questioning look.

"He can stay." Ginny nodded and rolled her eyes up to try and see the color of the strip.

"Is there anything in particular you'd like to share with me Miss Weasley?" Jenna asked as she first looked at Ginny's necklace and then examined the machines still whirling behind her.

"Harry and I had a very long talk about my control issues." Ginny started, making sure to look at anything but Harry. "And after some apologizing we…"

"Reconciled?" Jenna provided and Ginny started nodding quickly. That was a much better word than what she was thinking of. Her cheeks threatened to flush as she thought of the night before, and just how much _reconciling _they'd been doing. Jenna, of course missing nothing, waved her wand to stop the machines behind her, and calmly asked,

"Do I need to refill a pregnancy potion for you?"

Harry shrank into the chair, she held onto the gut-punching groan she wanted to let out and managed through a strangled voice,

"Nope, covered there."

"And how have you been feeling?" Jenna asked making notes in Ginny's ever-growing chart.

"Brilliant." Ginny smiled and rolled her eyes up again trying to see the strip color. "Hungry, sleeping, no panic attacks or anything. Although things have been pretty stressful with my brother and mum."

Jenna stopped and gave Ginny a very appraising look before questioning,

"How are you dealing with this stress?"

"Well, I'm not bottling it up if that's what you're afraid of." Ginny quickly answered and Jenna gave her a big smile.

"No, no I'm not worried about that at all." Jenna gently pulled the strip off her forehead and placed it across her lap.

Silver.

It was silver. Fully healed silver. No longer crazy silver. No longer sick silver. The actual physical marker of all the work and pain and suffering she had gone through silver. Her breath caught in her throat, she shook her head a few times, looked up at Jenna confused, back down at the strip, and then up at Jenna again,

"Is this a dud strip?"

"No." Jenna shook her head. Harry started to crawl out from his chair.

"You're absolutely sure that this is correct?"

"Yes." Jenna smiled at her and flipped her chart shut. She heard Harry stand and move toward them, his boots squeaking across the shining floors.

"What is it?" Harry asked moving right next to her and looking down at her lap. His fingers lightly touched the edge of the pure silver strip and then he snatched them away quickly, "Ginny?"

"I…I'm healed." She answered the strip and then shoot a glance at Jenna first and then Harry. The look of awe that crossed his face was quickly replaced by the biggest smile she'd ever seen. It lit across his features and she was suddenly wrapped up in a vice like bear hug, nearly dragging her off the hospital cot. He just as quickly released her and took a step back trying to distance himself and his excitement, but the smile was still plastered to his face.

"Yes," Jenna put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. "You are considered healed Miss Weasley. That means our time together has come to a close. But I want you to know that I will always be available to you should you ever need assistance again. Be it mental or physical."

"I don't want you to take this the wrong way Jenna," Ginny let out a little laugh and jumped off the cot. "But I don't ever want to see you again."

"Nor do I Miss Weasley," Jenna smiled and picked up her file moving toward the door. "Nor do I." She called over her shoulder and moved out into the bustle of the hospital.

"This calls for a celebration." Harry grinned at her and quickly slung an arm around her waist and pulled her close before they shuffled off toward the lifts, and then the hidden Auror floor, and then the hidden Auror exit, and finally out into the flurry of snowflakes blanketing Diagon Alley.

* * *

Snaking through the pub she grabbed onto the back of his jacket and let him lead her toward a dark corner. Conversations halted, spoons were hitting tables, heads were popping out from booths but she just smiled and kept moving. Harry started to weave a bit in a line, jerking her from side to side and she smacked his upper back.

"Just find us a seat, eh?" She said and let go of his jacket. He paused for a moment letting her stumble into his back and then looked over his shoulder and grinned waiting for her outburst.

"Told you not to follow me."

"I'll be sure to stay far, far away from you from now on. Could we sit now? I'm famished." Ginny rose an eyebrow and out of the corner of her eye she saw the couple in the booth next to them start to squirm, mother and father reaching out toward their child who was about to jump up in his seat at the sight of the two of them.

"Harry Potter!" The little boy yelled and started pointing. Harry turned toward the family and the mother turned bright red, the father looked sternly at his offspring.

"Jeffrey! Mind your manners." The father barked, the son shrunk back into his seat, and the mother started stumbling over herself in apology,

"I'm so sorry, he forgets to mind himself. We meant nothing…"

"It's okay." Harry smiled and inched his arm around her waist pulling them both closer toward the booth. "Jeffrey is it?"

"Yes!" The boy let out with a shout, as if he couldn't contain it, and then slunk back into the corner of his booth. Both parents shook their heads looking down at their plates. Harry nudged her and she moved out of his hold and extended her hand out to the child past his parents.

"I'm Ginny," she took his little hand and he shook it back enthusiastically.

"Weasley! Ginny Weasley! You are going to play for the Harpies, right?" Jeffrey asked continuing to pump her hand up and down.

"Yes. You know quite a lot. How old are you?" Ginny brought her other hand up to give him a squeeze and then retract her hand.

"I'm eight. But I can read really well. I like to read." Jeffrey moved to sit on the table and start scooting closer toward them when his father gave him a warning look.

"Our best friend likes to read as well." Harry offered, smiling ear to ear. "But we really need to eat some dinner so we're going to go. It was nice to meet you Jeffrey." Harry stuck out his hand and Jeffrey's brown eyes went wide with shock before he thrust his hand out, knocking the plates around as he shook Harry's hand.

"It was nice to meet you too Harry Potter." Jeffrey said looking at their hands as they continued to move up and down. Ginny stifled her laugh and gave Jeffrey a few nods before she put a hand around Harry's elbow and started to move backward.

"Thank you." Jeffrey's father looked up and locked eyes with Harry, the flush of embarrassment slowly lifting from his neck. "Truly, we thank you."

Harry nodded roughly at the man and then more gently to the rest of the booth, Jeffrey giving a little wave, and Jeffrey's mum blinking fast and hard, giving them a watery smile. Ginny took that as their cue and tugged at his elbow again, nudging them further toward the back and into one of the empty booths.

Ginny slid in, and Harry slid in right next to her, his hand immediately finding her knee under the table and giving it a squeeze.

"Wouldn't suggest the soup." Harry said as he summoned the menus over. Ginny let out a little laugh and looked over at his profile.

"You speak from experience?" She looked over the menu but didn't read it; she was still reeling from how smoothly he had handled the situation with Jeffrey. Harry's track record with accepting thanks for being, well, Harry Potter was bleak to say the least.

"Stayed here when I was thirteen," he caught her eye, the menu propped up in front of him.

"I'm supposed to be impressed?" She propped her menu up as well creating a wall to protect them, she dropped her head down so her face was hidden and finished in a whisper, "Because I totally am."

She batted her eyelashes at him and Harry knocked their menus over. "About time."

Ginny let out a large laugh and leaned back in the booth as Tom made his way over.

"Wha' ya havin'?" Tom slurred and pulled out a little notebook and pencil, rolling the pencil between his fingers, looking down at them. Harry scrunched his mouth for a moment before deciding,

"Turkey sandwich. Butterbeer."

"Make that two," Ginny voiced and picked up their menus to fold them before adding, "and a bowl of soup."

Harry narrowed his eyes at her, Tom nodded and left without another word, and Ginny neatly tucked the menus back behind the salt and pepper shakers and packets of sugar.

"When the soup tries to eat _you_, there will be no saving on my part." Harry crossed his arms over his chest and looked far away down the shop.

"I think I can manage some soup. I'm not quite the breathy, heaving, helpless fawn you seem to think me as." Ginny picked up a sugar packet and placed it to upright on the table, posing her fingers to get ready to flick it at him. She knew his snarky remark was coming.

"Fantasize you as. There's a difference." He tried to keep a straight face, but Ginny saw his jaw flex attempting to hold back the smile, she flicked the sugar packet right at his glasses. "Very mature Ginny."

"You're having fantasies about saving me from bowls of soup?" Ginny readied another packet. Harry rolled his eyes and then with a wordless flick of his wand the sugar packet, placed so perfectly in her grasp, exploded and covered her in sugar.

Shaking and brushing the shower of sugar off she narrowed her eyes at him and echoed in a grumble, "Very mature Harry."

"Whatever do you mean?" He turned and smiled at her. Ginny leaned forward and blew all the sugar toward him, finishing with a smile.

"Butterbeers." Tom clinked them down onto the table and promptly left again. Ginny clinked her bottle against Harry's and gave a little tip of her head,

"To scary soup." She raised her bottle.

"To silver strips." Harry locked a glance of emerald eyes on her and then nodded.

"I'll drink to that." Ginny smiled and tipped back her first sip. As she watched Harry take a long swallow, a large gaggle of girls started making their way toward the booth in front of them. Harry set his bottle down and leaned over to press a kiss to her temple.

"I'm proud of you Ginny." He whispered into her ear, and she felt the blush form immediately right at her cheekbones.

She loved hearing those words, but at the same time the public setting brought out a shy in her that she knew only Harry had knowledge of. To all her friends and family she'd become brass and mouthy, fearless and impulsive, daring and competitive. But Harry – Harry knew how much that silver strip had meant to her, how hard they had both struggled for it, how much it had cost them, and how she would never let anyone outside of him know any of that. Harry knew the girl that was afraid to take her blouse off, and went scarlet after peeking in his drawers, and that made his praise all the more blush inducing. He pressed a kiss to her blushed cheek and then pulled away, seeming to know she needed to compose herself.

"Please tell me you're going to order a drink Emily. After the term I've had I think heavy drinking is going to be my new hobby." The girl in the booth in front of them exclaimed and the group let out a little giggle.

"First round is on me!"

"That's our girl!"

"Now, my dear friend, why don't you continue that story you started back at Florish and Blotts?"

The group fell silent, Harry took a sip of his butterbeer, Ginny relaxed back into the booth and gave him a smile, her cheeks still pink. Not exactly what they wanted as dinner entertainment, but she had a feeling they wouldn't be staying very long anyway.

"I think I need a drink before I start this story." The girl responded to the request of her friends. Ginny took another sip and looked away from Harry for a moment, she felt like she'd heard that voice before.

"Please, you won't get to the juicy part that fast. You started earlier by saying that you think you've made a big, big mistake." One of the girls laughed.

"Is this a 6th year Slytherin corridor mistake…" the girl dropped off, the crowd of them laughed, and she finished, "or perhaps a Yule Ball mistake?"

"No." The storyteller said quietly. "Not that kind of mistake. It's much worse."

There was a round of nervous laughing and then silence. Ginny turned to look at Harry and his eyes were focused intently on the sheet of aged wood between them and the group of gossips. Ginny's flush immediately drained, and she watched with a flutter of worry as Harry's face started to morph from happiness to battle weary.

"You remember how I said I had a cousin that worked at a magazine?" The storyteller started, the girls surely nodding because she immediately continued. "Well, she asked me if I could keep an eye on things at Hogwarts for her this year. I told her I had better things to do with my time then do her job – but then…well…I changed my mind."

"Why?"

"Sarah, don't interrupt her." Another girl hissed.

"It's fine Emily." The storyteller sighed and Ginny leaned forward. She knew this girl. She had to know this girl, her voice sounded far too familiar. "You remember how I'd been sending letters to Neville all summer?" The storyteller cautiously waited.

"Of course." Sarah voiced, Ginny managing to pick out her high bell tone voice from the others.

"More like stalked him letters." Emily laughed, and Ginny realized there were just two more to identify, a third girl and the storyteller. She chanced a glance at Harry and his jaw was tight, his eye growing dark.

"Right, well he was always very polite with his letters back, and I thought for sure that we would go to the Cannon's game together and then he cancelled on me at the last minute."

"Right." The group exhaled, seeming to know this story all too well. Ginny felt something shake awake at the back of her head, something she didn't want to acknowledge, but at the same time knew was coming.

"Then I expected to at least be able to talk with him on the Hogwarts Express but again, he just ditched me." The storyteller grumbled. "I figured he was just catching up with his friends and left it at that."

"You're far too nice, I've told you that a thousand times." Emily shot in, everyone shifting in their seats. The table settled down again.

"Then the term started and we all know what happened – I won't bore you with all the details again; I'm done crying about it – but then my cousin sent me a letter about two weeks into the term, asking if I'd reconsider her offer."

"Oh no." The third girl exhaled, and Ginny and Harry both leaned forward toward the table.

"Are you trying to tell me, this whole term, _behind our backs_, you've been…" Sarah broke off and Emily picked right up,

"How could you keep something this big from us?"

"I didn't want to. I really didn't. At first it made me feel important, like I had this great secret that no one else could know about. And as the term pressed on it made me feel better. He'd fawn all over her, he'd bend over backward for her, and all she did was continue to ignore him!"

"That's a bit of a stretch." Emily butted in.

"No, it's not!" The storyteller exclaimed. "He'd come to me. He'd talk to me about how upset he was, about how he couldn't understand how she continued to never see the mistakes she was making. How her not loving him was tearing him up inside."

Ginny's hands snapped to her face. Harry's eyes darted over toward her and she turned to him, and started shaking her head.

Hannah. Hannah Abbott was the storyteller.

Harry put his finger up to silence her and pulled a mysterious device from his pocket setting it on the table and pushing a button.

"He did?" The third girl yelled and then hushed herself. Tom appeared and set down their first round of drinks, and moved a few steps along to set their food down when Harry looked up at him, his eyes dark and dangerous, and Tom nodded and turned around leaving with the food. There was a moment of quiet as the girls drank and then Hannah started again.

"You just don't understand, Emma. None of you do. He was heartbroken, he was tormented, and she just kept storming about the castle like she owned the place." Hannah snapped and Ginny's fists balled on the tabletop. Harry silently put a hand over them.

"Well, Hannah, she sort of did. Quidditch Captain, best friends with both the Head Boy and Head Girl – who happens to be Hermione Granger – and a spot on the Harpies." Emma interjected.

"Not to mention the fact that she was dating Harry Potter." Sarah interjected, and then Ginny heard her start crunching some ice between her teeth.

"But that's just it. She had everything – everything! Why did she have to keep tormenting Neville like he was some pest? I just couldn't stand for it. So I…I started writing to my cousin."

"How'd you manage that? They are monitoring the mail." Emily questioned.

"Ancient Ruin's. That's the only reason I know her at all. We are both very gifted in Ancient Ruin's. I'd send the letters to her in a code that we'd made up together during the summers when our families would vacation in Spain."

"Oh Hannah, what have you done?" Sarah whispered.

"None of you seemed to notice that Luminary Magazine was getting awfully close to the truth. No one did. There was already enough drama that Ginny was creating at school. And the closer and closer my cousin got to the truth the worse and worse it seemed to get for Ginny and Harry. And that was making Neville happy…"

"And so you thought it was going to make you happy?" Sara hissed at her. "Are you daft? He was happy because she was going to choose him not Harry! He certainly wasn't going to choose _you_!"

"I know." Hannah moaned. "I just. I thought maybe he'd see how wrong she was for him."

Harry's hand tightened around her fist and Ginny took a very deep breath, feeling the anger churn in her stomach. The whole time, the whole bloody term! It hadn't been Felicity Dagwood that was tormenting her and Harry it had been Hannah Abbott. The same Hannah Abbott who had fought with them at the Battle of Hogwarts. The same Hannah Abbott that she'd been nice to all term because she was a friend of Neville's. The same Hannah Abbott that she'd always written off as a giggly Hufflepuff.

Harry had turned very white, his scar popping out behind the fringe across his forehead, his eyes trained onto the booth in front of them, and Ginny felt herself flush with anger at the absolute stillness about him. How was he not exploding with rage? Harry did rage very well. His hand crushed hers' again and she glared at him preparing to knock the table over if she had to. She was going to grab Hannah Abbott around her neck and shake her until all her perfect curls fell out.

"But he didn't." Sara offered to the silence their booth had fallen into.

"No, he didn't. Harry broke up with her because of me. And Ginny tried to kill herself, because of what I did. I almost destroyed them all." Hannah whispered to her friends. The table fell silent again and Hannah cleared her throat, "I did a horrible thing."

"Beyond horrible, what you did was _unforgiveable_. Anyone else Hannah, you could have done it to anyone else. But not Harry Potter." Sarah clearly stated and the table went silent.

Harry scooped up the device from the table, pocketed it and moved out of the booth. Ginny seized it as her chance and exploded from her seat, pushing the table aside with such force that it created a loud scratching sound breaking up the silence. In two seconds she was on her feet and stood panting huge breaths of air in front of the group of them: all Hufflepuff's, all holding a frosty glass, and all looking at her as if she were the Grim.

"Hannah, get out of the booth." Ginny seethed.

"Ginny, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" Hannah went sheet white, knocking her drink over with her shaking hands.

"Out. Of. The. Booth." Ginny slammed her hands down onto the tabletop, the drinks slopping their pink liquor all over the place.

"Ginny I tried to stop I…I'm so sorry – I didn't want this to happen this way." Hannah fumbled around trying to mop up the spill, not making eye contact with her, and Ginny moved to the balls of her feet to spring at the girl across the table when she felt Harry's hand land heavy on her shoulder, planting her into the ground.

Three small groans escaped as Hannah's friends hunched forward and tried to hide their faces from him. All of Hannah's fumbling and stuttering came to a stop and she froze before them.

Harry squeezed her shoulder again and she felt a wave of calm wash over her, she was still angry enough to throttle Hannah Abbott with her bare hands, but instead she took a deep breath,

"I thought you were different. You fought with us; you risked your life for Harry and the school. Please explain just how, exactly, you managed to disregard all your morals and standards in a single term?"

Hannah's blonde curls started to tremble as her wide eyes began to gloss with unshed tears. Harry ran his hand down her arm, and back up to her shoulder and she took another deep breath,

"All you would have ever had to do was talk to me, Hannah. I was around you enough. You could have told me you liked Neville and I would have helped you. But instead you harassed me behind my back? You created lies about Harry? You lowered yourself to the level of scum that reporters are? For what?"

Large, mascara tinted tears started to roll down Hannah's cheeks, but she continued to stay shocked into stillness. Her friends were shifting restlessly in their seats, eyes determinedly averted from the mess that was unfolding in front of them. Ginny shook her head, feeling the anger burn in her lungs, tightly wound and ready to explode, but she tampered it down.

Harry leaned forward and placed a single hand on the table, sticky with spilled drinks, and waited until Hannah was looking right at him. After an achingly long moment, he finally spoke in a low, clear, even voice, his quiet control far more imposing than any fit of rage,

"I take my privacy very seriously, Hannah. And that extends out to my girlfriend. Do we understand each other?"

"Y…y…yes." Hannah stammered through her tears.

"Good," Harry pulled the device from his pocket and flashed it at her, "you're going to tell your cousin that you are done giving her information."

"Y…yes." Hannah nodded and blinked more tears down her face.

"Ginny is right, you did this for all the wrong reasons. I _never_ broke up with her, and she was _never_ going to choose Neville. But you would have known that if you would have just talked to her instead of spreading rumors." Harry pocketed his device again and peeled his hand from the soiled table.

"I'm so s-s-sorry." Hannah shuttered, still attempting to hold back the onslaught of misery you could read in her face. Tracks of black stained her cheeks, tears were leaving large wet marks all over her shiny blouse, and all her make-up couldn't hide the bright red of her neck and ears.

Ginny let out another deep breath and grabbed Harry's hand, and without another word they both walked away from the booth, and past all the surrounding booths that had left their dinner cold to watch the whole exchange. They only made it about two booths away before she heard Hannah Abbott burst into sobs, with not a single consoling word from her friends. Her chest flared with rage and she gripped Harry's hand tighter and sent them spinning toward The Burrow.

She was done being polite; she was done trying to be patient. All this nonsense with Ron was going to stop – and it was gong to stop tonight.

* * *

Harry did a disoriented shuffle next to her when they landed in the middle of the living room of The Burrow. Ginny swept her eyes quickly around looking for anyone but it was empty. It seemed like the whole house was empty. Then they both heard the noise above them, their faces turning toward the ceiling waiting for the second sound of footfalls.

"How'd you know Hermione'd be here?" Harry whispered, even though he didn't need to. Ginny let out a small laugh and replied in a normal pitch,

"How does anyone know how to find me?"

Harry leveled a judgmental look at her and she cocked an eyebrow giving him a challenging stare. He shrugged his shoulders and looked away but not before adding,

"Consider that lesson number one in that _secret_ _eye talk_ you seem to think Hermione and Ron and I have."

"Let's focus our snarkyness at who it really needs to be directed at." Ginny set her face and brushed past Harry on her way up the stairs. She got to her room first only to find it empty. Frustration bubbled inside her and she made her way up the second flight of stairs and called out,

"Ron!"

They heard a few bumps above them and Ginny moved quicker up the stairs, her necklace bouncing against her chest with each one. When she reached the landing she called out again,

"Ron! Get out here!"

The door from Bill's old door flew open and Ginny squared off against it feeling Harry move up right behind her and grab onto her belt. She tried to squirm out of his obvious attempt at either stopping her from flying at her brother or possibly tossing her out of harm's way, when Hermione appeared and looked at the two of them for just a moment before blurting out,

"Ginny?"

She only had to look at Hermione for a moment before her mind switched gears from fight to commiseration,

"Hannah!"

"Hannah?" Hermione gave her a long look, "Abbott?"

Ginny nodded a few times before taking a big breath to start in on her tirade when Hermione's eyes went wide and she blurted out,

"Neville!"

"What?" Ginny spat out and felt Harry flinch behind her.

"Neville came to the store." Hermione took a few steps away from the door.

"Hannah Abbott has been the spy for Luminary Magazine." Ginny tried to take a step toward Hermione but Harry's stronghold on her pants made her just step in place.

"What?" Hermione screeched. Both of them opened their mouths to start asking questions when a shadow formed on the door and then Ron walked out into the landing. Harry yanked her closer, Hermione took a step back toward Ron, reaching a low hand out as if to calm him, and everyone stayed still for a moment before Ron cleared his throat and said,

"Neville Longbottom tried to force himself onto you?"

"What?" Harry barked out and let go of her pants and took a step back. She spun around and grabbed onto his jacket, instinctively knowing that he was about to disapperate and get arrested for beating Neville within an inch of his life.

"He tried to kiss me." Ginny quickly shot out.

"Again?" Harry yelled at her. Ginny sank down, deflating in front of him and of all the people involved Ron took a few steps past Hermione and calmly said,

"Don't worry about it, I took care of it."

"Oh Merlin," Ginny released Harry and put her face in her hands, "what did you do Ron?"

"I was visiting Ron at the store this afternoon up in Hogsmeade. I was only there for a moment before Neville walked into the store." Hermione interjected above the tension so thick between the four of them Ginny felt like she could taste it.

"I told him he needed to leave, and he told me that he had to apologize to me because he knew he would never be able to face the two of you again." Ron continued. Ginny dropped her hands and turned toward the two of them and gave Ron a hard look.

"Apologize for what?" Ginny retorted.

"He said that despite seeing how much you were struggling with your relationship with Harry he knew that you loved Harry and not him the whole time. He said he didn't want to believe it. He said that he was sorry that he pried the prophesy from you in the Room of Requirement. He said he was sorry that he tried to kiss you in that empty classroom before you took all those sleeping draughts. And he said he was sorry that he hadn't been able to accept your answer even though you'd been telling him all year." Ron finished and crossed his arms over his chest.

The room felt like it was spinning, Ginny sucked in a deep breath and put out a shaky hand on the banister to steady herself.

"Was this all before or after you took care of him?" She asked her brother.

"After." Ron answered and gave a hard look at Harry. Harry still had his wand out but wasn't moving at all, eyeing up her brother with a very carefully.

"What did you do to him?" Ginny cautiously asked, feeling herself already start to cringe at what she expected was about to be bad.

"I hexed him into a display of love potions. Glass sprayed all over the store, people started to scream. Neville was covered in glass and potion, and when I went to jump on top of him and start beating the shit out of him for trying to kiss you twice now," Ron took a very angry breath and then finished through his teeth, "Hermione stopped me."

"I told Neville to leave, and I'd be sure to make sure you and Harry heard about what happened." Hermione filled in and put a hand on Ron's shoulder. Ginny took another deep breath and looked over at Harry, she couldn't read anything on his face and that was troubling to her.

"Ginny," Ron turned toward her and waited until she looked right at him, "I didn't think that Neville was that big of a problem. And for that I'm sorry."

"Only that?" Ginny frowned at him.

"Yes," Ron answered. Ginny felt Harry start to move toward him when Ron put his hands up and quickly shot out, "at first."

"Do tell," Ginny snapped and flung out a hand, smacking Harry in the chest and pushing him back.

"I realized, after Hermione filled me in on everything that had happened at Hogwarts, that I had been very wrong about you and Harry." Ron started.

"You better tell me something I don't _already_ know." Harry growled.

"Point is," Ron huffed, "if Harry has been willing to blow his Auror position at least twice now, and has been nothing but honorable toward you this whole time, that maybe…I'd been wrong." Ron finished in a mumble.

"And." Ginny crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her brother.

"And that Neville Longbottom didn't break into Hogwarts to make you a yellow blanket and stay at your bedside the whole night."

"And." Ginny felt her face drop, her arms loosening their hold.

"And that it wasn't me that spent the entire summer sitting in your room and watching you _pretend_ to sleep." Ron took a deep breath and Hermione squeezed his arm.

"And?" Ginny felt her voice soften and lower, dropped her arms and looked deep into her brother's face.

"And that Harry died at that final battle, and the only thing he was worried about was you. The man came back from the dead for you. If that isn't true love then nothing is." Ron finished with a nod and looked over at Harry, who had gone very pale. "_And…_ I'm sorry."

Everything was still and silent for a very long moment, she just looked at Ron in utter shock, saw Hermione's fingers turning white they were gripping Ron's arm so hard, and Harry sucking in shallow breaths out of her peripheral vision. Ron gave a shaky look at her and Harry and then cautiously asked,

"So can I move back in now?"

"Ron!" Ginny let out in a strangled cry and threw herself at her brother, tears streaming down her face as she squeezed him as hard as she could. Ron ran a few hands over her hair and half laughed half worriedly said,

"Now don't cry. No need for that."

Hermione threw her arms around the two of them and started squeezing as well, a few shaky breaths escaping her chest. Ron struggled against the two of them and groaned,

"Not both of you."

Ginny felt Harry grab the back of her jeans again and gently pull; she released Ron and let him wrap her up against his chest, still facing Ron. She wiped at her face a few times and felt Harry drop a kiss onto her shoulder before he stood up straight and extended out a hand toward her brother. Hermione let out a large sniffle and gave them a watery smile, wrapping herself around Ron.

Ron stretched his own hand out and grabbed Harry's. The two shook and then grinned at each other for a moment before Harry asked,

"What hex did you throw at him?"

"That stinging jinx you learned at training." Ron grinned. "Hit his leg though, not his face. Shame really."

"Collette just taught me this new one the other week," Harry started and released her, "it literally feels like someone kicked you in the gut. She said she had to try it out on me first so I'd know what I was doing." Harry laughed and shook his head. Ron let go of Hermione and leaned against the banister laughing with Harry.

"She just loves to torture you."

Ginny looked between the two of them, a smile growing wide across her face and chanced a glance over at Hermione. Her best friend's eyes were still glossy with unshed tears and she was barely containing the smile on her face. Hermione's eyes met Ginny and then she blinked away some tears and looked startled before shouting,

"Hannah Abbott!"

"Right!" Ginny laughed back.

"What happened?" Hermione moved toward her, bumping Harry out of her way.

"Let's just say that if Harry hadn't put a hold on me I would have dived across that table, drinks and all, and strangled the girl." Ginny ground out and Hermione's face lit up with excitement.

"Are you hungry?" She linked an arm around Ginny's and started to lead her down the stairs. "Ron and I just finished making dinner."

"You had to stop Ginny, _again_, from almost throttling someone?" Ron asked Harry behind her back and she turned to see Harry roll his eyes and start to throw his hands up, as if exasperated, toward Ron, notice her watching, and stopped and smiled brightly at her.

"It was nothing." Harry dropped his hands. Ginny raised an eyebrow at him and turned back around letting Hermione lead her down the stairs.

"I saw that." She called over her shoulder. Ron and Harry moved out of her line of sight, moving down the stairs right after them, but she still heard Harry mumble to Ron,

"I love her, but it's like all she wants to do beat the hell out of people. I'm worried about her penalty record once she starts on the Harpies."

Ron let out a loud and long laugh and sounded like he slapped Harry on the back. Hermione gave her a squeeze and a smile.

"I'm so glad everything is back to normal." She moved into the kitchen and Ginny quickly amended,

"No, I'm glad everything is finally starting."

She pulled out a chair at the dining room table and looked out at all the food already set. It was quite a feast they had arranged; apparently beating up Neville stirred up an appetite.

The door to the kitchen was propped open and out of the corner of her eye she saw Ron and Hermione make their way toward the table, Ron's arm slung low around Hermione's hip as she carried out a platter of potatoes, just steps behind them was Harry, holding a bowl of peas. For a split second her mind flashed back, stripping the warm inviting interior of her family's kitchen away to transport the three of them back to the castle, back to the battle, back to the carnage that had been left of Hogwarts.

It was one of the only true and lasting memories she had around the time of her breakdown. The sight of the three of them walking down the broken and crumbling hallway before the Great Hall, Ron's arm around her best friend, whispering things into her ear, and the sight of Harry – solitary, exhausted, and seeming to hunch at the weight of all he'd been through. All the memories after that were fragments – Harry's bloody trainers, disembodied voices, how pink the walls were, how yellow her blanket was, and Jello.

She blinked and shook her head a little, trying to shake the omnipresent feeling of her past. Yet, this time trying to remember it didn't bring about a sense of unavoidable doom. This time it felt like this piece of her that had been left back there, in the past, where it was meant to be. The Ginny that had crumbled into Harry's bloody arms had finally been left on the Great Hall floor. And the feeling of accomplishment over that thought alone made a smile light up across her face.

It had only taken a moment, by the time she was paying attention again Ron and Hermione were seated across from her and Harry had placed the bowl on the table, dropping a quick kiss to the crown of her head before sitting right next to her.

"Everything alright, love?" He quietly asked.

Ginny twirled her pointer finger around the unbreakable chain of her apparently blinding Sapphire, and let it hit against her chest a few times before smiling and nodding. She looked over at Ron and Hermione, both giving her a curious look before shrugging and musing,

"Makes you wonder what kind of dreams Neville is going to have tonight because you hexed him into a love potion display."

Ron and Harry both let out a loud laugh and Hermione pursed her lips in thought,

"I would suppose if it were transferred through the cuts, it might actually be more potent once in the blood stream..."

"Stop thinking so hard." Ginny teased and tossed a roll at her plate. Hermione gave her a scolding kind of look and started picking at the roll.

"Maybe she'll listen to you, Harry and I have been telling her that for years." Ron laughed and ladled a heaping pile of potatoes onto his plate. They all started to fill their plates, and fell right back into their relaxed, ordinary, uninteresting pace – and that seemed absolutely perfect to Ginny.

* * *

Author's Note:

Shades of Sunshine – Thank you for all your brainstorming and artistic interpretation of the themes and meaning behind this story. I can honestly say that it took it to a fantastic place and I am forever grateful to have met you.

brigrove – People have been telling me for years now (scary that I can say that with absolutely no sarcasm) that I should get a Brit-picker for this story. What people don't realize is that it's really hard to find a good Brit-picker, especially for a story of this size. So thank you so much for the incredibly fast and perfect job you've done with this chapter. I can now proudly point to at least one chapter where there isn't a single Americanism in it!


	35. Epilogue

**Ghost of You**

_~Epilogue~_

_I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self-respect. _

_And it's these things I'd believe in, even if the whole world indulged in _

_wild suspicions that she wasn't all she should be. _

_I love her and it is the beginning of everything. _

_-F. Scott Fitzgerald_

* * *

_5 Months Later…_

The flat was dark and quiet when Harry finally landed in the living room in the minutes just before dawn. Letting out a sharp breath, he dropped his duffel roughly by the door and kicked off his boots in two separate directions before collapsing onto the sofa. For a moment he sat motionless, his head falling back, eyes closed, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead, as he reveled in the silence of the morning.

He was exhausted.

Five weeks on nearly constant duty abroad had left him mentally and physically spent, and he understood now why the other Aurors had been so perplexed when he'd chosen to remain at the ministry after arriving back in London early in the afternoon the day before. He knew the paperwork could have waited, but he'd wanted the case to be completely behind him when he eventually came home.

He leaned forward slowly, his back and neck stiff from too many hours at a desk, and resting his head in his hands he slowly he rubbed his temples, attempting to ease the tension. His fingers traveled back through his untidy hair before he finally straightened and stood, turning back towards the hall; he hadn't done all that work so he could sit alone on a couch.

Harry quietly pushed open the bedroom door, and peered inside. Despite his bone deep exhaustion, he couldn't help but smile to himself at the scene before him.

In the far corner a trunk had seemed to explode across his room its contents disheveled and strewn over the sides, quidditch magazines littered the nightstand, and tossed on the floor in front of him were several piles of sorted laundry. His eyes scanned quickly across the clutter and up onto the bed, where at last they stopped.

_Ginny_.

Even asleep, her hair spread across the pillow and his old t-shirt drowning her small frame, the sight of her was enough to stop his breath. This was why he'd forced himself to run on nearly no sleep for the past week and why he'd pushed himself to stay the course and dot every _i _of that bloody paperwork before taking his leave.

Her. Here. In his house. In his bed.

No - in _their_ bed.

Finally.

Shedding all his filthy work clothes he swiftly crossed the room and lifted the covers to crawl in beside her.

He fought the desperate urge to wake her, choosing instead to prop himself up on his elbow and simply looked at her, needing to memorize her face in that moment. God, she was gorgeous. Her long, dark lashes, the smattering of freckles across her nose, the way her hair fell gently in her eyes, how soft her lips looked, and most of all how he had her, had her to himself.

She shifted slightly beside him and he watched as her eyes fluttered open. Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion for a moment before she started blinking slowly, her mouth curved into a sleepy smile and she lifted her hand to cup his face, as if trying to prove him a reality, and not just a dream.

"Oh, hello," she whispered softly.

Harry chuckled at her casual greeting and pressed a kiss to her temple before dropping his head on the pillow and pulling her close against him.

"Hi there."

She nuzzled deeper into him and asked, "How long have you been home?"

"Hmmm. 'Home' as in the country or 'home' as in next to you? Because let me tell you," he yawned, "those are sadly two entirely different answers."

"Lots of paperwork then?"

"Loads. But I'm done and I'm here whenever you want me for the next two weeks, free of charge."

She laughed softly and then rolled away from him, stretching with a groan before turning to face him, propped up on her own elbow.

"That sounds perfect, but I'm leaving for training Thursday. What happened? Hermione said you were going to be back at the end of term, but that something came up."

Harry scowled. So much for the surprise. It was true that'd he had planned to be done with his assignment and waiting at King's Cross when she climbed off the Hogwarts Express for the last time three days ago, but a last minute delay had deterred everything. He'd hoped no one would have said anything and the greeting they were sharing now could take its place. Clearly he'd been wrong, and instead of seeming thoughtful and romantic, as he'd hoped, he felt like he'd let her down in favor of the job. Again.

As if reading his mind, she quietly amended, "Don't look so defeated. You're here now. I just missed you. I can't remember the last time we were together like this."

He was silent as he struggled to recall the last time he'd seen her alone.

"April, I think. Over Easter."

"Two months is far too long."

"We've gone longer and survived. Besides," he added playfully as he rolled on top of her, "_You_ aren't going to ship off to Scotland for months on end anymore. You'll be here. With me. As planned. "

Ginny laughed and he started to tickle her sides, peppering her neck and chest with kisses as he moved down her body, all traces of exhaustion gone from either of them.

"Hey come here!" She called right before his disappeared beneath the sheets entirely.

"I'm busy," he answered cheekily between kisses.

"I noticed. If I promise to let you be busy again in a minute would you come back up?"

Harry laughed loudly and slid back up the bed, propping himself above her and kissing her nose before looking at her intently, waiting.

Her eyes filled with a fire that he had only seen a few times before in their short time together, and quietly, so softly he almost didn't hear, she whispered,

"_We did it_."

The vulnerability in her voice surprised him, but he understood, and he felt his own voice leave him for a moment as he considered the weight of her words.

It had been just over a year since she'd been discharged from St. Mungo's. He recalled the countless nights he'd spent staring at her sleeping form, praying to every benevolent force in the universe that she'd pull through, that she'd come back to him.

And she had. _She had_.

Of all of the things the war had brought and taken, their relationship would always be the greatest wonder to him.

To have lived through the fighting at all was the obvious miracle, but the year that followed Voldemort's defeat had been trying in ways even he couldn't have predicted. Her sickness coupled with the distance, the media and the inherent liability of his career was hardly a nurturing environment for a productive relationship, let alone a whirlwind love affair.

But still they'd survived.

And now, just out of Hogwarts, Ginny remained completely healed from the horrors she suffered after the war. She was healthy and strong and vibrant.

She was entirely mesmerizing.

"I love you." He breathed as she looked up at him through her lashes.

She smiled in response and he leaned down to press his lips to hers once, twice, three more times before deepening the kiss. She tilted her head slightly in acceptance, pressing her body up into his and running her fingers along the base of his neck and up into his hair.

For the millionth time he felt deep in his soul a pull of overwhelming love for this woman and with it the glorious, uncontrollable desire to laugh, to shout if he could. But instead, he pulled her closer to him; he would not leave her, he would not dare tear himself from her. He was bound to her, body and soul.

It didn't matter that the fates were against them, that they had seemed doomed never to obtain happiness. They had it now. They were safe, wrapped in each other's arms, sheltered in their warm home and bathed in the light of the morning. They were safe and whole and most importantly, they were together.

She had come into his life in a blaze of wonder only to be snatched away again in an instant.

So for him to feel her now – no longer a ghost, but real and whole – for him to feel her life and hear her soft breaths as his body tangled with hers, was the most delicious sort of happiness.

He had fallen in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self-respect. And it's these things he would believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn't all she should be.

He loved her and it was the beginning of everything.

~The End~

* * *

A/N:

To Shades of Sunshine - you are the Roy to my Siegfried, the Smithers to my Mr. Burns, the Fred to my George...why all of those were men I'm not sure. I look forward to our next, fabulous, collaboration.

To everyone else who has helped along the way - thank you, thank you, thank you.

To my husband - time for that steak dinner! )

I hope you all enjoyed the ride as much as I did. All the best to you and yours! Hasta!


End file.
